A Fool's Choices
by Morphea
Summary: [COMPLETE] Snape hated his life. Not only had he been denied the DADA position for the 16th time in a row, but he was risking his very life spying for the Order without any recognition from his peers. They were all such a bunch of ungrateful illiterates..
1. A New Year Begins At Hogwarts

**Author**: Morphea  
**Rating**: PG-13 for violence in later chapters  
**Summary**: Snape hated his life. Not only had he been denied the DADA position for the 16th time in a row – he sure had broken records in that regards – but he was risking his very life spying for the Order without a single hint of recognition from his peers. The Wizarding World was such a bunch of ungrateful illiterates...  
**Disclaimer**: I am not related in any way to the Harry Potter universe. I didn't create it. I would love to have, but I didn't. I wrote this story for fun only, and I'm not making any money from it (though I'm sure you all guessed that already)

**Author's Notes**: This story is novel-length and almost entirely written (working on last chapter as I speak!), so the updates will be very frequent, at least once or even twice a week. If the story is popular, I can decide to increase the frequency of the updates. So if you want me to update more often, just let me know in a review. Chapter 1 is a bit short, but the next ones are longer.

Chapter beta read by **Beulah Page**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 1  
A NEW YEAR BEGINS AT HOGWARTS**

Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts and Head of Slytherin, truly and sincerely hated Albus Dumbledore. He now had the certitude that the old man was doing his best to make his life a total hell. He already knew this year would be most upsetting - and they were only one week into the school year.

This year would have been horrible enough without Dumbledore putting his oar in. First, Potter and his gang, now in their last year, behaved as if they were the kings of the world more than ever. Potter remained his usual arrogant self, Granger had become Head Girl and would certainly begin to emit all sorts of ridiculous complaints or requests very soon, and Weasley… well actually, Weasley was the least of his concerns, while Longbottom was as ever a proper public menace. Snape's only consolation was the prospect of being rid of them all at the end of the year - hopefully forever.

Dumbledore could have made him the new DADA teacher to help him grin and bear it, but no, the Headmaster had had to make it even worse… Not only had Snape's application for the DADA teacher position been rejected _again_, but the old man had given the job to a complete idiot.

Snape would never understand what exactly Dumbledore's selection criteria were when deciding who the new DADA professor would be. It certainly had nothing to do with having any kind of knowledge about the Dark Arts, if some of the last teachers were any indication. Maybe this year's decisive factor in Dumbledore's choice had been tap dancing - it wouldn't be completely surreal coming from a wizard who considered all dishes should be flavoured with peppermint. At least it would explain a lot.

Snape had never questioned Dumbledore's wisdom but he had to admit that the Headmaster had been particularly careless in the choice of the most recent DADA teachers. Voldemort's host, a usurper more preoccupied by his personal grooming than the safety of his students, a werewolf, one of Voldemort's lackeys, the Ministry's agent, and… No, better not think about the disaster of the previous year. The memory was still painfully lingering on his mind.

Anyway, now that the final war against the Dark Lord was drawing close, now that they really needed a good DADA teacher, someone who knew exactly what the Dark Arts were, someone who would be able to prepare the students for the inevitable battle, someone like, say, himself - which was a totally random suggestion - they had ended with the antithesis of a bright and experienced wizard.

And right now, at supper and at the high table, Severus Snape had the great misfortune of sitting next to Hogwarts's brand new DADA teacher. Mizar Ursaglow. Roughly twenty years old. Former Hufflepuff. And obviously able to speak endlessly about Ashwinders.

Snape decided to listen for a few seconds to what the young man was saying, and instantly regretted doing so.

"… but the shortness of their lives makes it almost impossible for one to really study them. Only one hour! Did you know that their eggs were red and gave off intense heat? And it's made even more thrilling by the mystery that surrounds the way they…"

Snape briefly wondered if this year Hogwarts students were relieved to leave the DADA classroom for the History of Magic class. Professor Binns' soliloquy certainly sounded extremely appealing compared to Ursaglow's chattering.

Snape couldn't understand why the young man persisted in talking to _him_. He had tried his best to ignore him since the beginning of the meal, but somehow Ursaglow had kept talking to _him_. Every now and then Snape would come out with a cold and cutting retort in order to have the other teacher keep his mouth shut, but it was no use, for the young man was obviously too dense to take the hint.

Was that milk Ursaglow was drinking? Snape observed with a snort. What had Dumbledore been thinking when hiring him? That he would be a great addition to Hogwarts's staff? The boy certainly wasn't experienced in the Dark Arts _at all_, especially since he passed his NEWTs only recently.

For having him as a student only a couple of years before, Snape knew him to have been a very average student - which meant execrable in Potions. But that was probably the best one could expect from a Hufflepuff.

"… and if you consider how fast they can infest a whole house it makes them quite dangerous creatures. Most people underestimate the threat they can be, and many a time has a wizard been surprised by…"

This was getting worse and worse. Was he repeating his lines for his next lessons or did he just enjoy the sound of his own voice? Snape decided to look for help on his other side - if Ursaglow realised he was speaking to someone else, he may stop talking, though he wouldn't bet on that - before remembering he was sitting next to this year's other new teacher.

He wasn't exactly sure why Flitwick had suddenly decided to retire the previous summer. He didn't know how old the former Charms teacher was but he had always seen him at Hogwarts. And Snape - without doubt along with most of the other staff members - took the hint that Flitwick's decision to leave his position at Hogwarts was linked to some major event in his family.

Anyway, the Charms teacher was now a witch - which reduced the male members of the staff to himself and… _this_, Snape thought with disgust while giving a side look to Ursaglow, who was of course still talking - there was also Hagrid, but the half giant didn't really count.

Dumbledore probably made fewer mistakes when hiring her. She seemed both serious and competent - she had to be, for she became Head of Ravenclaw as well. And at least she was older than the DADA clown.

She was probably around five or six years younger than himself, Snape estimated, which meant she had probably been his student during his first years as a teacher. Endora Wilson… No, he didn't remember the name. The only Wilson he recalled was a Gryffindor boy - who had been a first-class nuisance. If she hadn't left her mark it was probably because she hadn't been exceptionally gifted or poor, at least in Potions. However, he had the vague feeling that she reminded him of someone or something, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

He hadn't really had the opportunity to talk with her yet - but if her conversational skills were half as developed as the new DADA teacher's he would avoid any discussion with her like the plague. However, as he systematically did when meeting someone, he had put her on the list of people he disliked.

Come to think about it, there weren't many names on the list of people he _did_ like. Dumbledore was one of them - or rather used to be one of them. The old man was a great wizard that Snape respected, and despite his deliberate unwise choices of DADA teachers year after year, he had managed to remain on the liked people list. But this time was the last straw. He had clearly gone too far and Severus had just decided to put Dumbledore on the other side.

Anyway, Snape instantly knew he would get no help from recently appointed Professor Wilson. She was already in the middle of an animated discussion with Professor Vector sitting on her other side, and considering the circumstances, he almost envied their complex discussion about Arithmancy. Anything had to be better than -

"… while they're created when a magical fire is allowed to burn unchecked for too long, one can wonder if it also applies to fires like the…"

… than this, Snape thought with an irritated sigh. He hated being interrupted in the middle of his thoughts. And Ursaglow just kept doing that. Snape gave him his best death glare, the one he usually kept for his most despised students, the one that usually made said students shiver with fear, look down to their feet guiltily and whisper "yes, Professor" with shame. But somehow it didn't have any effect and the young man kept talking as if he hadn't noticed anything - which was probably the case considering his dimwittedness.

"Severus!"

Snape turned to the other side of the table with hope - someone had probably decided to help him out of his misery - only to find Dumbledore looking at him with an amused expression on his face. Of course he was amused; the old wizard was the one who had put him in this situation.

"Don't forget the staff meeting after lunch," the Headmaster simply said with a kind smile before turning the other way round.

This was going to be the worst year in his entire life, Snape thought - and that was saying quite a lot.


	2. Staff Meeting

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 2  
STAFF MEETING**

Soon after dinner, all of Hogwarts's teachers were in Professor Dumbledore's office for the staff meeting.

"Ladies, Gentlemen," the Headmaster began, "I asked you to come here to talk about the patrols inside the school. Minerva and I took the liberty to establish schedules according to your lessons' timetables. We sincerely hope they will suit all of you."

When Dumbledore was done, McGonagall distributed to each of them a parchment detailing his or her own patrol.

"Thank you Professor," the DADA teacher murmured when given his parchment.

"Oh come on Mizar, you are no longer a student. You can call me Minerva," suggested McGonagall.

"All right, Minerva…" Ursaglow replied shyly and blushed slightly, while Snape rolled his eyes. Why was he the only one to notice the young man didn't belong among them?

Dumbledore remained silent for a few minutes to allow everyone to discover his or her schedule before asking, "Does any of you have any question?"

"I have one," Endora Wilson said hesitating. "I… noticed there were many night watches…"

"Absolutely", replied the Headmaster. "Since night is the students' favoured moment for mischief, the night watches are extremely important. But you might have noticed as well that night watches are always scheduled when you have no early lesson to teach the next morning."

The Charms teacher nodded though she was still frowning at her parchment.

Oh, the poor little witch wouldn't be able to get her beauty sleep… Snape thought with a snort. She should have thought about it before applying for the position. Being a Professor at Hogwarts wasn't all about teaching a couple of classes every now and then like some lazy witches seemed to think.

Snape realised he was in a particularly foul mood this evening. He couldn't wait for this meeting to be over so he could go back to his dungeons and spend some relaxing time brewing a couple of potions.

"If no one else has any questions…" Dumbledore paused to allow anyone who wanted to speak to do so. When no one did, he went on, "then I will wish a good night to all of you." As everyone began standing up he added, "Minerva, Severus, Endora, I would like to speak to the three of you privately."

Marvellous, Snape thought while sinking back in his armchair. What could it be about now? It couldn't be a Heads of Houses meeting, for Professor Sprout hadn't been invited, and if it was about the Order, why asking Professor Wilson to stay? Could she be a member of the Order as well?

Oh great, Snape thought ironically, she would certainly be their best asset during the war against Voldemort, always complaining she couldn't get enough sleep… But it could have been worse after all. It could have been _Mizar Ursaglow_, Snape mused with a shiver. Had it been so the Dark Lord would probably already be ruling over the entire world - either that or he would have died laughing at the sight of the young wizard.

Once everyone except all four of them had left, Dumbledore spoke up.

"As you might all have noticed, Voldemort has grown more and more powerful these last two years, and it has become clear that the final battle against him is impending."

So it _was_ an Order of the Phoenix's meeting, Snape concluded.

"The Order's actions will be valuable everywhere so as to destabilise Voldemort," Dumbledore went on, "but will be all the more important here, in Hogwarts. Knowing Tom, he will certainly want to mark the beginning of hostilities with a brilliant feat, something symbolic. Hence, I fear he might try to attack the school soon, some time along the year. We must ensure the security of our students at all costs."

The Headmaster paused. Everyone was listening to him intently.

"Endora, you were already working for the Order at your last position abroad, but here my demands will be more specific. First, Professor Flitwick used to be in charge of the charms protecting Hogwarts, so could you check those already in place?"

"Of course," the young witch agreed.

"Good," Dumbledore nodded. "Feel free to improve the protections as needed. Second, I know you specialise in Charms concealment, so you could probably add some tricks of your own. Something Voldemort wouldn't expect. Something that would take him and his followers by surprise. Something that could give us an advantage, even the slightest, even just to delay him."

"All right," she replied with a slightly wicked smile. "I already have a couple of ideas that could give him trouble."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said before turning to Snape. "Severus, your position is, as always, the most delicate. As ever, be extremely careful. The information you provide us is absolutely vital. Do not endanger your life."

Snape couldn't believe the old wizard was telling him not to endanger his life. Joining the Dark Lord a second time to spy on him was exactly what he should _not_ have done in order to remain safe. Of course, Voldemort had punished him greatly for not returning to his side the first time he felt the Dark Mark again and had put Snape in a terrible torment when he came back at last. But the Order needed it, needed his sacrifice to get information about the Dark Lord and his followers. And remembering the burden he had on his shoulders didn't make Snape's mood any better.

However, Snape gave a sharp nod.

"We will hold meetings on a regular basis all along the year," the Headmaster went on. "The dates will always be decided at the last moment, and either Minerva or I will let the two of you know. Is that all right?"

Both Snape and Wilson nodded.

"Thanks to all of you and good evening," Dumbledore concluded.

Snape immediately stood up and left the Headmaster's office hurriedly, eager to get to his classroom, and strode towards the dungeons.

"Hey!"

Snape only had the time to stop to find Ursaglow already standing next to him. Had the boy been waiting for him outside Dumbledore's office?

"I've been waiting for you!" the young man said enthusiastically.

Yes he had… Snape thought with a silent sigh. Where was a particularly wild Bludger when you needed one? Or just a starving dragon, he wasn't picky…

Snape decided to ignore the annoying wizard and started walking towards the dungeons once more. And had the great displeasure to notice that said annoying wizard was following him.

"Where are you going so hurriedly?" Ursaglow asked.

"To the dungeons," Snape replied coldly between gritted teeth.

"Oh, you're going to prepare some potions, aren't you? What are you working on these days, Severus?"

Snape instantly froze and turned back to face the young DADA teacher.

"Allow me to clear up one point, Professor Ursaglow," he began with a slow and menacing voice. "I will not accept such familiarity from you, hence forth you will call me Professor Snape and never use my first name again. Unless you wish to die a slow and extremely painful death, of course, which I would be extremely eager to provide you, should you forget my recommendations. Was that clear enough for you?"

Ursaglow gulped audibly, much to Snape's delight. The young man also seemed a bit paler than a minute before.

"Yes Professor," Mizar eventually said.

"Excellent," Snape concluded before turning on his heels and striding towards the dungeons again.

"So, what potion are you working on, Professor?" Ursaglow asked earnestly as if nothing had been said before - and he was still following him.

Did that boy have the memory of a flobberworm or had he just decided to dedicate the rest of his life to make Snape's a total hell? Seriously, one could wonder.

Snape stopped walking - again - and turned to the DADA teacher. "Don't you have something else to do? Or someone else to bother? Or at least somewhere else to be?"

Ursaglow stared at him with puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about you leaving me _alone_," Snape hissed.

"Why would I leave you alone?" Ursaglow replied at a total loss.

As Severus was about to reply something along the lines of 'Why would I allow you to live otherwise?', the new Charms teacher walked up to them. Fantastic, Snape thought sarcastically, that was _exactly_ what he needed…

"Mizar," she said, "I think Professor Dumbledore is asking for you."

"Oh, is it about opening a duelling club again?" Ursaglow asked animatedly. "I enjoyed it so much when Professor Lockhart launched one back in my fifth year that as soon as I got the DADA position, I asked Professor Dumbledore if I would be allowed to open one as well! So is that it?"

Professor Wilson hesitated for a second. "Most certainly," she answered, though it was obvious from her tone that it was false.

But of course oblivious Mizar Ursaglow would take it at face value.

"Great!" the DADA teacher exclaimed before hurrying back to Dumbledore's office.

Snape wasn't sure the Headmaster would appreciate the intrusion since he had certainly _not_ requested the young wizard's presence. And the self-righteous witch next to him probably thought she had done a good deed by ridding him of the DADA teacher - which she had, but that wasn't the point.

Endora chuckled. "He's a naive little fellow, isn't he?" she said with a grin while watching Mizar run away. Then she looked up to Snape, but the Potions Master just ignored her. "And from what I heard about this Lockhart, the sessions of the duelling club must have been… quite dull…" she added.

Then she looked at Severus again. She was probably expecting an answer, Snape supposed, yet he remained silent once more. He had no time to waste on such a useless discussion and he only wished to return to his study. The young woman eventually gave up and shrugged before walking away. Well, at least this one understood faster than the DADA flobberworm, Snape thought with a hint of relief.

However, after only a few steps, Snape saw Wilson stop, turn back to him, open her mouth as if to speak, and hesitate, before speaking at last with a strange gleam in her eyes.

"There's something I've always wondered…" she began, and no more words were needed for Snape to know he would not like the next ones, for her ironic tone was flagrant. "Do you ever smile, or do you suffer from some kind of nervous disorder that prevents you from contracting your facial muscles?"

Snape glared at her for a long moment, antipathy shining brightly in his eyes, until she smiled slightly, obviously amused.

"That's what I thought…" she eventually said before leaving him alone at last.

Snape now had three certitudes. First, she _had_ been a student of his. Second, he _did_ dislike her. Greatly. Third, she would pay for that comment.

"Severus!" he heard behind him.

Oh no, he thought, not again. Couldn't a Potions Master have a few minutes of peace to brew a couple of potions? If possible lethal ones - Snape was sure Ursaglow would forget himself and call him by his first name again very soon. And the best he could do would be to rid the wizarding world of such a burden - and then use the extra potion on the new Charms teacher.

Before Snape could fantasise about being awarded the Order of Merlin, first class, for poisoning the worst wizard ever, Minerva McGonagall caught up with him.

"I saw you found time to socialise with our new teachers," she said. "That's very considerate of you, Severus, I am sure they will soon both feel at home thanks to your warm welcome."

"No need to be so ironic, Minerva. I am sure you enjoy the situation as much as Albus does."

"Neither Albus nor I enjoy any situation," McGonagall retorted stiffly. "You know you would have aroused Voldemort's suspicion were you given the DADA position."

"But was it really necessary to fill the vacant positions with unqualified teachers?" Snape argued.

"Endora Wilson was a very talented Ravenclaw student back in Hogwarts," the Transfiguration teacher protested. "And her postgraduate thesis about Charms concealment is absolutely brilliant, you should read it."

"Maybe when I have some time to waste," Severus replied sharply, and he knew Minerva would understand it meant 'never'. "Then what about Ursaglow?" he went on.

"He is very enthusiastic," McGonagall defended.

"I noticed as much," Snape snorted.

"And he certainly knows more about the Dark Arts than you think he does," Minerva went on.

Severus snorted again. He would almost agree with McGonagall, since Ursaglow could hardly know less about the Dark Arts than he thought he did.

"If you say so, Minerva," Severus said sarcastically. "Now if you will excuse me, my cauldron is waiting for me."

With those words Snape walked towards the dungeons yet again.


	3. Teaching Potions

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine. I also realised something weird had happened with the dashes in the previous chapters. I replaced them.

**CHAPTER 3  
TEACHING POTIONS**

During the following month, a kind of routine settled. Every time Snape would come across Professor Ursaglow, the young man would follow him around like a little dog chattering endlessly about some whim of his. Then Snape would resort to menacing him with all sorts of painful deaths, but the DADA teacher would not understand. On the contrary, he would keep following the Potions Master until he suddenly remembered he had a lesson to give or until Snape shut his study door in the man's face.

Snape did his best to avoid Ursaglow, but it seemed the young man had the faculty to appear out of nowhere at the exact moment Snape wished to be alone. Even if he hexed him, Ursaglow would probably keep following Snape.

As for Professor Wilson, Snape never missed a chance to bless her with some cutting remark whenever he could - which basically meant whenever he was within her earshot. Surprisingly she usually took no notice of his sarcasm, as if ignoring him, though it was obvious it upset her - which always filled him with tremendous delight.

He spared her only during the meetings of the Order of the Phoenix - the last thing he needed was Dumbledore or McGonagall asking him to be kind to the Charms teacher. Especially since the more Ursaglow annoyed him, the more Snape took it out on Wilson, and the crueller his sneers were. Somehow, he had found equilibrium this way and it was probably the only reason why he didn't jump down the DADA teacher's throat every time he caught sight of him.

On a Friday afternoon in October, though, as Snape left the Great Hall after lunch to return to his classroom for the last lesson of the week, Ursaglow decided to accompany him to the dungeons. Had it been the only time, Snape would have probably done nothing more than just ignore the young man. But it wasn't, and Snape had been annoyed more than was tolerable for one week.

Snape paid no heed to whatever Ursaglow was babbling on about, until he suddenly stopped and turned to face the DADA teacher.

"Maybe you don't mind being late for your lessons, Professor Ursaglow," he said coldly, "but I don't need any escort to my classroom. Hence, you should go back to your classroom."

As Mizar was about to protest, Snape went on.

"Of course, were you to linger here more than necessary, I would be extremely delighted to renew my offer to oblige you with the most unbearable death I can imagine."

Ursaglow opened his mouth - undoubtedly to object - but Snape interrupted him again. What were the words he didn't understand exactly in 'unbearable death'?

"Listen to me carefully," he said slowly in a low and menacing voice. "I know more ways to kill a wizard than you can think of, so I would advise you to follow my suggestion and return to your own classroom at once."

Snape didn't wait for a reply and strode towards the dungeons. He entered his classroom quickly and sat at his desk; almost all his students were already there.

Sixth year double Potions with Slytherin and Gryffindor. Oh, the joy. The other way he had to vent his frustration for not being allowed to put an end to Ursaglow's life: try to break his record of points taken from Gryffindor in a two hour lesson.

Just a few seconds after he sat at his desk, a Gryffindor boy entered the classroom hurriedly.

"Mister Lange," Snape called, and the boy immediately froze and stiffened. "What a pleasure to see you finally decided to bless us with your presence today. Five points from Gryffindor for being late."

The boy hurried to his seat without a word.

"But, Professor, the lesson hasn't started yet…" one of his housemates pointed out shyly.

Snape glared at the young girl. Today was not the day to mess with Severus Snape, and they should know better by now than to contest his decisions. "Ten points for your insolence, Miss Dolix."

Snape intertwined his fingers and propped his chin on the back of his hands.

"Today, I will teach you how to prepare a Pain Relieving Potion. It is a rather complex potion that requires a lot of attention. Each ingredient must be measured accurately and prepared earnestly, for they all enter in the composition of a powerful poison as well, yet in other proportions. Hence, as you can guess, any mistake during the preparation of the potion could be lethal during the testing."

A slight sardonic smile appeared on Snape's lips at these words.

"It is possible to obtain Pain Relieving Potions of different strengths depending on the time you allow the ingredients to brew. However, considering the short time we have ahead of us, you will only manage to get a very weak potion that probably wouldn't even ease the slightest headache. That is, if any of you manage to prepare the potion correctly, of course. You will first need three ginger roots."

Snape observed his students as they took the ingredient from their potion-making kit. "The roots must be in good shape or the consequences could be disastrous." He couldn't help another smile. "The roots have to be chopped into bits that will not exceed a sixth of an inch. The cuts must be clear and clean, so as to be immaculate."

Snape paused again, as a movement caught his attention.

"Miss Martin, would you care to bring this piece of parchment to me?" he eventually went on, "Yes, the one you are trying to hide under your book."

The young Gryffindor walked up to his desk and handed him the piece of parchment before looking down to her feet with embarrassment. Snape quickly read the few words written on it and raised an eyebrow.

"Miss Martin, I am sure you and Miss Weasley are more interested to know whether Mister Caldwell likes you or not than how the roots should be chopped, but for your own sake I would advise you to pay more attention to my instructions."

At hearing his name, Caldwell looked up from his cauldron, blushing furiously, while some Slytherins began sneering at him and making wolf howls.

"Yes, Professor," the young girl whispered.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention. And the same for you, Miss Weasley," he added turning to the redhead.

The rest of the lesson turned out approximately like any other. Unfortunately, they didn't have enough time to test the potions, but Snape reassured his students with an evil smile by telling them they would test the potions the following week.

Once all the students had left the classroom, Snape glanced at the piece of parchment where he had recorded the points he had taken during the lesson.

Five points for a blunt knife, ten points for damp roots… When the boy tried to explain that someone played a prank on him minutes before the lesson and that all his things were soaked, Snape made it twenty points. Ten points for asking one's neighbour's help, five points for a broken test tube, twenty points for a lumpy potion, five points for a dirty cauldron…

Snape quickly read the rest of the list and added up the points: two hundred and five. Not bad but still not his best.

He consigned his students' potions to his storeroom and finally left his classroom, heading for the library. He needed to check something for the project he was working on, and he hoped to find what he was looking for so he could test a few things over the weekend. However, the next morning he would have to go to Hogsmeade to replenish some of his ingredients. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, so he wouldn't be annoyed by students all around.

When he reached the Restricted Area, Snape saw Professor Wilson already there. She hadn't heard him coming and was still examining the titles of a row of books.

"Looking for a book?" he asked ironically.

At the sound of his voice she perceptibly tensed up. "No, actually I lost a student here last week, so I was hoping to find him at last before Professor Dumbledore noticed someone was missing," she replied without looking up at him.

Oh, the witch was in a playful mood… Maybe he could get some fun out of this day after all…

"I do sincerely hope it wasn't a Slytherin," Snape insisted before looking for the book he was hoping to find.

Wilson glared at him from the corner of her eyes before looking back to the books in front of her. "No, it was a Gryffindor, which I am sure will please you immensely," she retorted, and took her wand out to cast a summoning charm on a book out of her reach.

_The Rarest Potions and Their Multiple Uses… Brews and Concoctions: One Hundred Recipes for the Most Dangerous Potions… Potent Potions and Poisons_… Hmm, that wasn't what he was looking for but this one could be useful later, though he was sure he already knew most of what he could find in there.

"Did you do everything necessary for the charms protections of the school?" Snape added as he kept browsing through the Potions section of the Restricted Area, knowing the Charms teacher would understand his implication that he thought she hadn't.

"Since you obviously didn't pay attention when I answered that question weeks ago during a meeting," she began, and Snape knew she was talking about an Order of the Phoenix meeting, "I will have you know yet again that yes, I did."

"I expect you used something more powerful than a simple Repelling spell. Even a fourth year would be able to get past it," he insisted, knowing full well that Wilson would interpret it as a denigration of her abilities.

From the corner of his eyes he noticed the witch gripping her book and her wand a bit tighter. "Professor Snape, if you want to take care of the Charms protections of Hogwarts yourself, you could ask Professor Dumbledore. But I sincerely doubt it would be any use, seeing how your applications have a tendency to be rejected."

Snape turned to her sharply, but she kept turning the pages of her book without looking at him.

"I truly hope you do not make light of your responsibilities," he accused roughly, "for I would hate to be killed only because you miscalculated the threat. Were I in charge of the assignments, I would have never given so many liabilities to someone as inexperienced as you are."

Endora brusquely slammed her book shut and took a few deep breaths, still not turning to face him. Well, it seemed he had managed to exasperate her at last, Snape thought with delight. When she opened her book again and resumed her reading without a single word, Snape turned back to the shelves.

_Potions and the dangers of their misuse_… Ah, _Ancient potions no longer in use in modern days_! There it was. Snape picked up the book and left the Restricted Area.


	4. Such a Small World

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 4  
SUCH A SMALL WORLD**

Snape walked slowly through the alleys of Hogsmeade's apothecary shop and examined closely the ingredients displayed. He was extremely picky when it came to the quality of his ingredients, and didn't tolerate second-rate material for his personal experiments. And Hogsmeade's apothecary knew it well.

Snape came there on a regular basis, and the apothecary had become accustomed to his exigenciesas long as he could make lots of galleons in a short time he probably didn't care, and Snape was certainly one of his best clients.

Severus looked up to the bats' wings hanging from the ceiling. They seemed a bit dustyand a bit hacked as well.

"Professor Snape! What a pleasure to see you again!" the apothecary greeted him, and Snape could almost hear the sound of a cash register going 'ding' in the old man's head.

"Does one give these to a hippogriff to chew?" Severus asked.

The apothecary followed Snape's gaze. "Oh, don't worry, I have others in my backroom, in a better shape…"

"Good. I will take ten of them then," Snape concluded.

"Ten bats' wings," the apothecary nodded. "Anything else?" he asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

Snape moved to a row of jars on a shelf, and stopped in front of one filled with a dark purple powder. Too dark to his liking.

"Would you have, by chance, purer Graphorn horn powder in your backroom?"

"Absolutely, Professor, absolutely…" the apothecary assured him. Powdered Graphorn horn was immensely expensive, and Snape would only buy the best available.

"I will need a quarter of a pound," Snape replied and saw the apothecary's eyes glitter. Severus took a look around. "I can't see the Cocatrix feathers, where are they?

"I didn't have the time to display them yet, Professor, but I have plenty of them."

"In your backroom," Snape assumed.

"In my backroom," the apothecary confirmed, and Snape supposed it would probably be easier if he went directly to the backroom to do his shopping.

"It will be twelve of them then." Snape looked at another shelf full of jars. "I will also need fifty wasp stings and ten dragon claws."

"An excellent choice, Professor," the apothecary guaranteed.

Snape then reached a row with hundreds of little flasks. "Two flasks of skunk essential oil."

"Certainly. Anything else?" the apothecary asked again.

Snape moved to the desk. "I suppose you keep all of your class B tradeable material in your backroom."

"Of course, Professor. Is there any class B product you would need?" the apothecary queried, and Snape heard the old man rub his hands behind him before he reached the desk as well. Class B products were always very expensive.

"One Erumpent tail and a flask of exploding fluid," Snape replied.

"Very good. I will just need you to sign this piece of parchment," the apothecary replied and took a class B tradeable material selling agreement from a drawer.

"One last thing…" Snape went on.

"Yes?" the apothecary encouraged expectantly.

Snape looked around and made sure there was no one else around. "I also need something a bit special… Something rare…"

The apothecary's eyes glinted again. Rare meant expensive.

"I need some unicorn milk," Snape finished.

The apothecary's face fell. "It is… very rare indeed… And extremely hard to obtain…"

"I am very aware of this fact," Snape said, "but you probably have some of it somewhere in your backroom."

"I don't," the apothecary replied looking utterly devastated, "but I'm convinced I can obtain some very soon. Maybe tomorrow…"

"You see, I'm in a bit of a hurry…" Snape replied.

"No, no I meant, probably later tonight…" the apothecary rectified. "I expect a delivery from a breeder and – "

"I don't think you understood what I meant…" Snape interrupted. "But it's no worry. If you can't get this, I will just apparate some place where I can get everything I need."

"In an hour!" the apothecary exclaimed. "Come back in an hour, and I will have everything!"

Snape smiled with satisfaction. The old man had always been very easily influenced as long as enough galleons were at stake. And Snape didn't care if the apothecary spent the next hour milking a female unicorn himself as long as he got what he needed.

"Good. I knew you could make an effort. I will come back in an hour then. Of course, I will pay for everything when I return."

"Of course," the apothecary said with a nervous laugh. "I will prepare all your ingredients for you."

Snape nodded and left the shop. He walked down the street and entered the Three Broomsticks. He would wait for his order to be ready there. Snape sat at a table, his back to a pillar. His place ensured him relative tranquillity for he was out of sight of most of the other clients of the bar. He then hailed Madame Rosmerta and ordered a drink.

Snape spent the next half hour planning his experiments for the weekend while taking sips at his drink. Distracted by a sudden outburst of laughs, Snape sharply turned around towards the table of noisy wizards next to the entrance door, and glared at them with annoyance. Until a wizard and a witch entered the barand his field of view.

Remus Lupin and Endora Wilson.

And now that he saw the two of them standing next to each other he couldn't help but remember who the new Charms teacher reminded him of. They shared the same brown hair, the same brown eyes… The family likeness was unmistakable. Snape didn't remember any Endora Wilson, but he now remembered one Endora Lupin in her sixth and seventh year during his first two years of teaching. Remus' sister. How could he have forgotten about that? Granted, among her year's fellow students there had been plenty of troublemakers that certainly caught his attention more than her, but still…

Endora Wilson instantly climbed two steps up his personal scale of hate, and Snape turned back to face his table againthey probably hadn't seen him. His guess was confirmed when he heard them seat at the table behind him, on the other side of the pillar.

Snape was totally disgusted by his discovery and had no more will to remain there with the two of them around. He quickly finished his drink, prepared his coins and began to stand up.

"Seriously Remus, how did you manage to stand him when you were teaching here? When I applied for the position I thought the most difficult part would be handling the students, not the other teachers!"

Snape sat back. Would there be any chance that they were talking about him?

"Demeaning one's abilities is Severus' favoured technique. Just don't play his game and ignore him," Lupin replied.

So they _were_ talking about him, Snape concluded. Maybe he could stay a little longer and listen to what they had to say… He pricked up his ears.

"I've done nothing other than try to ignore him since the beginning of the year. He's doing his best to get on my nerves, and he's succeeding; I can barely stand him any more. I swear, Remus, the next time he provokes me I hex him!"

"Calm down Endora, I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is."

"You mean, you think it could get any worse?"

Oh yes it could, Severus confirmed, much worse… And it _would_ get worse now he fully remembered her identity.

"You know," he heard Remus begin, "it's funny when you think you were afraid of him back when we were all students at Hogwarts."

There was a lull. "Was I?" Endora asked. Then another lull as she was probably thinking about it. "I don't remember."

Neither did Snape, though knowing the Charms teacher had feared him at some point was a delightful thought. He would have to borrow Dumbledore's pensieve some day and try to check some of his memories.

"You were a first year and we were all in our last year," Remus went on. "Snape was always hanging with a group of Slytherins: Avery, Rosier, Wilkes…"

"Oh, right… Freaky bunch, they were…"

Freaky? Snape mentally exclaimed, indignant. And she was still wondering why he took it out on her?

"By the way, I was thinking…" he heard Remus begin.

Oh, really? The werewolf had been thinking? Then he should owl the Ministry so he could get a special reward for his fantastic abilities! Oh great. He had been spending a wonderful morning until they came in and spoiled it all by annoying him.

"Maybe Snape is so hard on you because of me," Lupin finished.

"What do you mean?"

Yes, what did he mean?

"To say that Snape never liked me is an understatement, and you being my sister…" Remus let the sentence hanging.

Snape could do nothing else than agree to both statements. It certainly was a _huge_ understatement, and had he known they were related before he would have been definitely much harder on her.

"When you were a student of his," Remus went on, "did he ever give you any rotten mark for no particular reason?"

"No, and I never gave him any occasion to give me detention either."

Of course, Snape thought. He hadn't started his Slytherin favouritism policy yet back thenbut was already experimenting with the Gryffindor-bashing. But he would have to check his old marks recordsit upset him greatly not being able to remember whether Endora Lupin had been a good or a poor student in Potions.

"But back then Ravenclaw had double potions with Gryffindor," he heard the witch go on, "so I suppose he was too busy taking care of the Gryffindor troublemakers like Jonathan to really pay any attention to me."

Jonathan! Jonathan Wilson, that was the name of the Gryffindor nuisance he remembered very vividly! Snape had actually been relieved when he eventually graduatedunfortunately, the Weasley twins entered Hogwarts only a few years later…

But it hadn't been the last he heard from Jonathan Wilson, for he soon became an Aurorhow he had achieved such a miracle with execrable results in Potions was beyond Snape's understanding. And had taken a liking to investigating the pasts of former Death Eaters cleared by the Ministry.

Had he been a real pain back then… Snape hadn't heard from him for years though. The Ministry had probably told him to calm down after receiving complaints from some wizards of high rank like Malfoy.

Wait a second… Endora _Wilson_? She had married Jonathan Wilson? The Gryffindor pest? Could this day become any worse?

Two more steps up his scale of hate for Professor Endora Wilson. She was now an inch from her brother and his Marauder friends.

"Maybe there's no reason to find…" Remus concluded.

There was a short silence followed by a sigh.

"Do I miss my old job!" the Charms teacher said. "If you hadn't insisted so much, I wouldn't even have applied for this position."

"But you can do so much more here, for the students, for the Order… Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes but… I kind of hoped to enjoy it a bit more."

Snape couldn't help a snort. Teaching at Hogwarts and working for the Order weren't supposed to be enjoyable, but they were necessary.

"Look on the bright side: we can see each other more often now that you're back in England!" Remus said.

"Yeah, and thankfully we don't have to rely on the international floo network any more…" Endora added.

"What international floo network?"

Chuckles.

"The Ministry should really do something about that," the Charms teacher said, "sign more agreements with other countries and all. I sent them dozens of owls back then. Do you think they would take even five seconds off their precious time to reply?"

Her words were followed by a long silence, and Snape decided to stand up. Listening to their conversation was now totally pointless, and he had already learned more than he had wished for.

"Do you know what annoys me the most about Snape?"

Severus froze when he heard the witch. She soon went on.

"It's his superior attitude, as if Potions was the most important kind of magic that ever was…"

Snape clenched his fists.

"I mean, at least it were a complex subject, I would understand… Transfiguration is complex, Arithmancy is complex, but Potions… Potions is no more than cooking."

With boiling rage Snape turned around and faced their table, revealing his presence to them. But only Lupin could see him for Snape was standing right behind the witch. Remus stared at him with surprise, looked at his sister, looked back at him, unable to articulate anything. And Endora was going on.

"No need of any particular magical knowledge, even a Muggle could be a successful potions maker."

"Endora, you shouldn't – " Lupin tried to stop her.

"Just give a Muggle a Potions book," she went on, "all the ingredients he needs, and he'll probably manage very well." She then probably registered her brother's gaping mouth. "What?"

"Good morning, Severus…" Remus greeted uneasily.

As Snape was about to make an extremely spiteful remark Endora sighed.

"Remus, I'm no longer four years old, I know he's not right behind me."

"My deepest apologies for having to disagree with you then, Professor Wilson…" Snape eventually spoke up, his voice very smooth and betraying none of his ire.

The witch tensed up, and Remus cast her an apologetic look while she muttered a couple of curses under her breathprobably very nasty ones Snape guessed. When she eventually turned to face him he went on.

"I will have you know, Professor Wilson," he said putting all his venom in the title, "that Potions is the most ancient form of magic and precedes any kind of wand gesticulation that you seem to hold so much affection for. I would advise you to read 'The Origins of Potions' by Fornax Varkov, but it would probably be a waste of time considering your obvious lack of interest in the subject. Hence, I suppose all you can do is continue revelling in your ignorance."

Snape swiftly left the Three Broomsticks, still full of rage. His order had better be ready, or the apothecary would have to endure the full extent of his wrath.


	5. Comings and Goings

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 5  
COMINGS AND GOINGS**

Snape put another marked test aside and looked back at the remaining of the pile in front of him, completely disgusted.

Had none of these fifth year students learned anything during the last years? It was such a disappointment to see how deplorable their skills - or lack thereof - were. And it became worse and worse year after year. It seemed only few students showed any kind of interest in Potions, and fewer showed any potential at all.

Snape read the first lines on the parchment before crossing them out. He progressed to the next lines, and eventually crossed them out, too and shook his head. Who was this student trying to kid? Armadillo bile in a Confusion Potion? Ridiculous.

When he reached the bottom of the test at last and found only one partially good answer, Snape scribbled a quick D at the top of the piece of parchment. If only that kind of students could spare him some time and hand blank tests instead. Besides, what was the fun of giving rotten marks if they were deserved?

Snape put the test aside with the others. He would have to go check on his brewing experimental potion very soon. One or two other tests and he would go have a look.

As he moved on to the next piece of parchment, his study's door was suddenly opened quite rudely. Endora Wilson stormed in and planted herself in front of his desk, looking downright furious.

"Professor Wilson, it's so considerate of you to have announced your entrance with a knock…" Snape remarked coldly.

The Charms teachers didn't unclench her teeth and kept glaring at him.

"May I ask what brings you here?" he went on, hardly refraining from adding that it was probably not to wish him a good day.

"Professor Snape…" she eventually began. "It came to my attention that you have recently started to give unjustified detention and poor marks to the students of my House."

Snape put his quill back in the inkpot and crossed his fingers. "And what leads you to believe they were unjustified?"

"Apart from the fact that Ravenclaw students have never been prone to misbehaviour or laziness," she explained slowly, "you gave eighteen detentions to Ravenclaw students during the last week while all the other teachers combined gave only four."

"And you instantly jumped to the conclusion that there was some kind of discrimination on my part," Snape replied, "and never imagined that it could be all the other teachers showing favouritism for your House."

Wilson stared at him for a long second. "That seems very unlikely," she eventually answered, which elicited a snort from Snape. She silently observed him with a scrutinising look for another long second before speaking up again.

"If your recent behaviour with the Ravenclaw students is in any way due to what I said at the Three Broomsticks two weeks ago during what was supposed to be a private conversation, then I – "

"Thinking what you said," Snape interrupted, "as ludicrous as it was, would have such an impact, would be very presumptuous of you, Professor Wilson."

"I sincerely hope you understand that giving detention or poor marks to the students of my House is no solution to any kind of problem you might have with me," Endora retorted. "If you _do_ have a problem with me, there are other ways to solve it."

"Absolutely," Severus agreed. "I heard Professor Dumbledore had given Professor Ursaglow his authorization to open a duelling club. Maybe we could solve our problem there," he ended with an evil smirk.

The Charms teacher folded her arms. "I was speaking of talking it out."

Snape couldn't help but sneer. "If you ever meet the Dark Lord, please do me a favour. Talk to him. Try and reason with him; he really is on a downward path…" he mocked. "Talking has never solved any problem."

The witch opened her mouth to protest, but he raised his hand to stop her. "I'm afraid I have to put an end to this… lovely conversation, for I have to go check on a potion. I suppose you will find the way out easily," he concluded before leaving through the door at the back of his study, leading him directly to his personal lab.

Once there, Snape examined the boiling contents of the cauldron. Everything seemed to be perfect. He added a couple of ingredients and stirred the substance for a few minutes. He waited another minute, inspecting the fumes and making sure everything was all right. Now he had roughly two hours ahead of him to finish marking the fifth years' tests before having to check on the potion again.

When he came back to his study, Snape had the great displeasure to find Endora Wilson, her head tilted to the side to read the edges of the books displayed on his shelves. At the sight of one of the titles her eyes widened as if in shock - probably one of his numerous Dark Magic books, Snape guessed.

"What are you still doing here?" he eventually asked with irritation, and she instantly looked up and faced him. "I was under the impression that you were done with your ridiculous accusations."

"I certainly wasn't," the Charms teacher objected and walked up to him. "If Professor McGonagall doesn't want to do anything about the way you have always been treating the Gryffindor students, that's none of my business. But I won't tolerate the same treatment for the students of my House. If I find out you have continued to harass the Ravenclaw students, you'll hear me."

Once she was done, she walked out of his study and closed the door behind her.

"I can't wait," Snape muttered with a sardonic smile before seating at his desk again.

He gave a look at the next test on the pile of parchments. Jimmy Thompson, Ravenclaw. Snape picked up his quill, draw a big D on the test with an evil smirk, and put it aside without even reading a single word. Life was so much easier when you had few moral principles.

Snape resumed his test correction. After a few minutes only he heard a knock at the door. He put his quill back in the inkpot and sighed.

"Come in," he called with exasperation, and watched Professor McGonagall enter his study and walk up to his desk.

"Sorry to disturb you, Severus," the Transfiguration teacher apologised. "Have you had any… contact with Lord Voldemort recently?"

Snape shook his head. "There has been no Death Eater meeting for a while, which usually does not bode well. But there will probably be one very soon now."

Minerva nodded, a concerned look on her face. "Then let me or Albus know immediately after your return, and we will hold an Order meeting."

"Sure," Snape acquiesced.

"I will see you later then," McGonagall added before leaving him.

Snape picked up his quill and continued the correction of the fifth year tests. He hardly had the time to mark five essays before there was another knock at the door.

"Come in," he spat, a little more angrily than the previous time.

Snape felt a sudden urge to take his wand out when he saw Mizar Ursaglow walking inside.

"Professor Snape! It's been a while!" the young DADA teacher exclaimed.

"Too short a while…" Severus muttered under his breath. "What do you want?" he added aloud.

"Well, I suppose you heard Professor Dumbledore agreed to my request to open a new duelling club."

"Unfortunately, I did," Snape replied coldly.

"I was wondering if you would agree to help me make a demonstration for the students, like you did the last time with Professor Lockhart," said Mizar.

Snape's gaze became distant as he contemplated the possibilities. An unfortunate incident during a duel… A premature death… A teaching position suddenly vacant, no time to look for other applicants…

"So?"

Snape focused on Ursaglow again. "No," he replied coldly.

"But – "

"I have no will to be involved in such an experiment again," Snape interrupted, "while I'm sure some other teachers will be delighted to help you."

"But – "

"Thus, I will ask you to leave my study right away," he went on and stood up to lead Ursaglow back to the door.

"But – "

"I'm afraid I have more important concerns to deal with," Snape continued, pushing the DADA teacher forward. Once they reached the door at last, he added "Have a nice day," and shut the door in Ursaglow's face.

Snape strode back to his desk, fuming. Correcting tests was already annoying enough, and being constantly interrupted made it maddening. He took a deep breath, picked up his quill and prepared to start the correction of a new test. He waited for a couple of seconds, his quill in mid-air. Since there was no new interruption, he started reading the piece of parchment.

Half an hour later the pile had noticeably diminished. If he hurried a bit he would be done before he had to go check on his potion again.

Knock.

Snape hardly refrained from banging his head on his desk. It was a conspiracy; it had to be. Dumbledore was probably behind it, enchanted to make his life worse than it already was. Maybe he could just pretend he wasn't there…

Another knock.

"Come in," Snape said reluctantly. Oh great, the Head Girl now. "Miss Granger," he greeted.

"Professor Snape," Hermione began, "I have the project of establishing some new facilities in the Common Rooms. In order to do so, I need the signatures of all the Heads of House," she finished and handed him a piece of parchment.

Always straight to the point, Snape thought while picking up the piece of parchment. He gave a quick look at it: she already had the signatures of Professors McGonagall, Wilson and Sprout. Of course, Snape thought with a snort. She had first asked those who were the most likely to agree to her request.

"I suppose the Head Boy wasn't consulted before taking these steps."

"Draco Malfoy isn't interested by this kind of demand," Hermione retorted.

Snape glared at her for a second. She had become more self-confident and arrogant along the years. He gave another look at the piece of parchment. Now that all the other Heads of House had signed it, refusing to sign it himself would be useless.

He quickly scribbled a signature. "Now off with you, Miss Granger," he said while handing the piece of parchment back to her.

"Thank you Professor." Hermione picked up the document and swiftly left the room.

Alone at last, Snape thought with relief. At least he hoped so until he heard yet another knock on his door after correcting no more than a couple of tests. He clenched and unclenched his fists nervously.

"Come in," he eventually called with resignation. The more he said these words, the harder they became to articulate.

He was somewhat relieved to see it was Madam Pomfrey this time. He knew what it would be about and that it wouldn't take long.

"Good evening, Madam Pomfrey," he greeted almost kindly - at least as kindly as he could greet someone that had the misfortune of being the fifth person in a row to interrupt his work.

"Good evening, Severus. Oh, I'm sorry, you were busy…" she added when she saw the pile of parchments on his desk.

Someone noticing it at last, Snape thought sarcastically before gesturing her to go on.

"I will be short of Pain Relieving Potions for the hospital wing very soon," Madam Pomfrey explained, "so I was hoping you would find some time to brew some for me."

"Certainly," Snape agreed. "I will bring them to you in a couple of days when they are ready."

"Excellent. Thank you Severus," the witch replied with a kind smile and left his study.

Snape returned to his grading work. Until a couple of minutes and tests later there was a knock on the door. Again.

Severus was now dangerously bordering a nervous breakdown. He took his wand out, marched to the door and opened it wildly. Surprised, Professor Wilson took a step back while Snape eyed her suspiciously. Why did she have this fake smile plastered on her face?

"What do you want _again_?" Snape accused sharply.

"While I…" She looked embarrassed. "While I was browsing through your books earlier today…"

Snape crossed his arms on his chest. If she was here to lecture him about being such a bad wizard for owning such terrible writings, it was both useless and the most unwise moment to do it.

"I happened to notice you owned a book called 'Combining different kinds of magic: great possibilities but terrible dangers'," she went on uneasily.

Snape arched an eyebrow. The only reason why he had this book was because there was a large part of it dealing with Potions. There was also a large part dealing with Charms, he remembered, and smirked. Knowing he had something she wanted desperately enough to stifle her pride and come back here to ask him for it was an extremely enjoyable thought.

"It is a very, very rare book and I would – " she continued nervously until he waved his hand to interrupt her.

"Allow me to make things easier for you. The answer is no. You won't have this book," Snape concluded before irreverently closing the door.

He only had the time to take two steps back towards his desk until he heard insistent knocks again. He walked back to the door and opened it once more. The Charms teacher was still there but in place of her fake smile was now an upset expression.

"And I would be extremely delighted if you would consider – " she started again.

"What, exactly, did you misunderstand a few seconds ago?" Snape interrupted. "I said _no_," he insisted and closed the door yet again.

The knocks that came split seconds later were more adamant than the previous ones. Exasperated, Snape opened the door once more.

"If you would consider lending it to me even for a short – " Wilson continued as if her sentence had never been interrupted.

"Professor Wilson," Snape exclaimed, "this is the last time I will state this to you. I won't give this book to you, or lend it to you, or do anything that would allow you to access all or even bits of this book."

He tried to close the door but the Charms teacher blocked it with her foot.

"Listen," she warned. "I've been looking for a copy of this book for _years_, and I will not move until you allow me to have a look at it."

Snape stared at her during a few seconds. She really wanted this book badly, didn't she?

"Fine," he eventually said calmly, and she seemed to relax a bit. "Then I suppose I should warn you it gets a bit cold here at night. Have a nice weekend," he concluded before closing the door in her face and immediately charming it locked.

He waited a couple of seconds, and when he heard no knocking walked back to his desk with a sigh. He now had a very short time ahead of him if he wished to finish grading these tests before he had to focus his attention solely on his experimental potion.

While examining the next test on the pile, Snape began massaging his forearm mechanically. Until the slight itch became an insistent burning sensation.

Oh great, Snape thought as he stared at the Dark Mark on his forearm. A Death Eater meeting. That was exactly what he needed to conclude this memorable evening.

Snape stood up and walked to his lab. He wouldn't be able to bring his experiment to its end. Such a waste of time and efforts… He switched off the fire under the cauldron and prepared to join the Dark Lord and his followers.


	6. Death Eaters' Reunion

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 6  
DEATH EATERS' REUNION**

Snape registered his surroundings as soon as he apparated. He was outdoors in a somewhat deserted place. He took in the plants, the trees, the soil, the landscape - anything that would allow him to guess where he was. From what he could gather, he was no longer in England, but probably somewhere in central Europe.

The locations of the Dark Lord's meetings were always a mystery, even to his followers. It was the Dark Mark that guided them to the different reunion places. The Dark Lord had always been a suspicious - and rightly so.

Snape discerned several dark silhouettes in the night, all converging towards the same point. He followed, already knowing whom he would find there. Lord Voldemort.

As they arrived, the Death Eaters walked to their Master in turn, knelt in front of him, and kissed the bottom of his robes, as was custom. Then they stood up and took their place in the circle around the Dark Lord.

Before it was his turn, Snape emptied his mind as he always did, blocking any thought about his recent preoccupations and especially anything related to his activity within the Order. Truly his gift with Occlumency was a blessing - it was the only reason he was still alive after so much time spent spying. He then did his best to focus on something that would satisfy the Dark Lord, should he probe his mind. Potter dead-–dreaming about that wasn't so hard-–Dumbledore surrendering, a world full of pureblood wizards, havoc among the Muggles…

"Master," Snape murmured respectfully as he kissed the robes.

When he stood up, Lord Voldemort was observing him with a gauging look, but Snape had felt no attempt at an invasion of his mind. He walked to his usual place in the circle of Death-Eaters and waited.

"My dear Death Eaters," the Dark Lord eventually said in a low voice, "I invited you here tonight to announce good news. We will be ready to launch our first significant attack very soon."

Snape could almost hear the silent approval of the other wizards.

"As you already know," Voldemort went on, "the giants sided with us a while ago, along with the Dementors. I have never used them yet - that will soon change. In exactly thirty days, I will send some giants to attack Hogwarts."

Dumbledore had been right in his assumption, Snape thought. But giants? A giant was harder to stun than ten wizards combined. Even if only a few were sent, they would have a hard time stopping them.

"The purpose is not to take control of the school, only to show Dumbledore and his foolish supporters what I am capable of. But if some damage can be done in the meantime…" Voldemort continued with an evil smirk.

They would have to take adequate measures if they wanted to face the giants. Quickly. Stopping giants would be tricky. Extremely tricky, even if they were well prepared.

"Nott," the Dark Lord called.

Nott took two steps forward. "Yes, Master?"

"Are the giants on their way?"

"Absolutely, Master," Nott confirmed.

"When will they arrive?" Voldemort asked again.

"They should reach the coasts of England in a little over two weeks," Nott replied, "and should be near Hogwarts in a bit more than three weeks."

"Excellent." With a wave of his hand Voldemort dismissed Nott. The wizard took a few steps back until he was in the circle again. "Malfoy," the Dark Lord called this time.

"Yes Master?" replied Lucius as he took several steps forward.

"How are the relations with the Dementors going?"

"They're still a bit unwilling to be commanded, but I'm convinced I'll get complete control over them very soon. I'm doing my best," Malfoy replied.

Voldemort walked to him until he was almost nose-to-nose with the wizard. "Try harder," he hissed menacingly. "I didn't have you freed from Azkaban to merely try to socialize with them."

"Yes Master."

The Dark Lord eyed Malfoy for a long second before dismissing him like he had Nott. Then he cast a circular look at the Death-Eaters around him. Snape tensed a little - that was usually the moment of mind probing.

Contrary to his habit, Voldemort only spoke. "I have other news." An evil smile found his way to his lips. "We managed to catch at last a member of the infamous Order of the Phoenix, one of Dumbledore's supporters. Alive," he added. He waited for a few seconds before turning to Pettigrew. "Bring him here, Wormtail."

While Pettigrew left the circle, Snape wondered if it could be someone that knew him, someone that could give him away. But he wasn't really worried about his identity being revealed, for few members of the Order knew he was a member himself. And even fewer knew his role.

His guess was confirmed when he saw Pettigrew push a Stupefied wizard forward. Snape didn't recognize him - it was probably some insignificant member of the Order.

The Dark Lord nodded towards Crabbe and Goyle, and the two of them advanced towards the wizard. Once they had seized him by the shoulders, Voldemort cast an Enervatum spell on him. The man looked a bit dazed at first, then stared at the Dark Lord in shock and fright, his mouth ajar. Judging from his ragged clothes and the blood dripping from his forehead, he had already been… interrogated thoroughly.

"What is your name?" Voldemort questioned coldly.

The wizard hesitated for a second. "Adar Miller," he eventually said.

"Greetings, Adar Miller…" the Dark Lord replied. "From what I've been told, you don't know any precious piece of information… The only names you could give us, we already knew… How unfortunate for you… Crucio!" he exclaimed as he lifted his wand towards the Order member.

The wizard yelled under the curse, his face contorted with pain and his body agitated by spasms, until the spell stopped when Voldemort withdrew his wand.

"You do understand that considering the circumstances we cannot keep you alive any longer…" the Dark Lord continued, and nodded to one of the Death Eaters - probably Mulciber, Snape guessed.

Mulciber took his wand out, pointed his wand towards the wizard, and pronounced the last words this member of the Order of the Phoenix would hear in his life. "Avada Kedavra!"

Snape's eyes didn't remain very long on the dead body of the wizard when he fell to the ground with a thump - his fate had been sealed the instant he was caught and any kind of sympathy would be totally misplaced. He had other concerns of his own, especially since the Dark Lord was now turning to him.

"Snape," Voldemort called.

Severus took two steps forward. "Yes, Master?"

Voldemort walked up to him. "Is Hogwarts's new DADA teacher any threat?"

"Certainly not, Master," Snape replied truthfully. "He's no more than a pathetic idiot, an insufferable disgrace to the pureblood community."

The Dark Lord nodded. "Does Dumbledore suspect anything about our projects?"

"I'm afraid he doesn't confide in me about such things, Master."

"Does Dumbledore suspect anything?" Voldemort insisted, his tone more aggressive.

"I believe he doesn't, Master," Snape said, knowing full well the Dark Lord wouldn't be satisfied by his answer. In a self-preservation instinct, he mechanically emptied his mind.

"You believe he doesn't," Voldemort spat and stared at him intently. That was when Snape felt the beginning of a mind intrusion.

Potter dead, Snape imagined. Potter tortured, Potter suffering from an unbearable pain, Potter under the Cruciatus curse, Potter at the mercy of the Dark Lord…

The mind probing was over, and Snape knew none of his secrets had been revealed. But Voldemort was still staring at him.

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord exclaimed, pointing his wand at him.

Snape's knees gave way under the pain and he fell to the ground. Fighting back would only make the Dark Lord more irate. All he could do was wait - and endure.

"Stand up," Voldemort ordered when he eventually withdrew his wand. "STAND UP!"

Once Snape was back on his feet, Voldemort wrapped his hand around Severus' neck and squeezed dangerously.

"I will need more than mere suppositions the next time if you wish to leave another meeting alive," the Dark Lord dropped in his ear angrily. "Don't forget you're still on probation…"

"I never did, Master," Snape managed to articulate.

"Be careful, Severus…" Voldemort warned. "You're no more than a pawn… And pawns can be sacrificed…"

"I know, Master…"

Voldemort eventually released him. Snape refrained from massaging his sore neck in a mechanical movement - the Dark Lord would not appreciate such a display of weakness from one of his followers.

Voldemort turned to the other Death-Eaters. "This goes for all of you as well. No pawn is irreplaceable." He eyed them silently for a few seconds. "You're all dismissed."

It was with relief that Snape apparated right outside Hogwarts grounds a couple of seconds later, and massaged his neck at last. It had been close this time. He immediately began striding towards the school.

Roughly fifteen minutes later he was already back to his study. He observed his desk and the pile of tests still in need of a correction, suddenly feeling a bit depressed. He had a lesson to teach early the next day, and it was already the middle of the night. The tests would wait another day. As would the Order.

Snape walked to his room and collapsed on his bed.


	7. Charms Practise

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 7  
CHARMS PRACTISE**

The next morning after his meeting with the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, Snape noticed several finger-shaped bruises had appeared on his neck where Voldemort's hand had pressed. He had no potion to heal them, nor time to brew some or go to the hospital wing. Hence, he decided to wear robes with a collar high enough to hide the bruises.

The remainder of the day, he was extremely busy. While he needed little sleep, he had still had too little of it the previous night, and he taught the morning lessons with extreme irritability. Even some usually troublesome students seemed to notice and had kept a low profile.

He didn't eat in the Great Hall at lunch. Instead, he asked a House Elf to bring him a meal from the kitchens and spent his lunch break in his study to finish the correction of the fifth years' tests.

Since he hadn't left his classroom or his study since the previous night, Snape still hadn't had the chance to speak to Dumbledore or McGonagall. The Headmaster was usually very busy on Mondays, so he would seek the Transfiguration teacher first. He knew she had only one lesson to teach at the beginning of the afternoon, as he did. He would go meet her immediately after.

At the end of his afternoon lesson, Snape took a malicious pleasure in giving his students lots of homework, even more than usual. All left the Potions classroom with drawn faces. Soon after they were all gone, Snape left as well and headed for the Transfiguration classroom where he was quite sure to find McGonagall. On his way he found the time to take 20 points from Gryffindor because of two students playing with magical firecrackers, along with 10 points from Hufflepuff because of another student who had had the misfortune of standing next to the others when Snape caught them.

As Snape was about to enter the Transfiguration classroom through the already open door, he almost bumped into McGonagall who was going out at the same moment.

"Severus!" she exclaimed. "Were you looking for me?"

"I was indeed. I have some… recent news," he began, looking around to make sure no student would hear, "about some… delicate business of ours."

McGonagall understood immediately what he was talking about. "Maybe this should be brought to the attention of the Headmaster, as well as to some other teachers?"

"Certainly," Snape confirmed.

McGonagall frowned. "I'm afraid I'm on an urgent errand that requires my immediate attention. Would you care to warn Professor Wilson and then meet Albus and I in the Headmaster's office in one hour? Endora's last lesson ends in approximately thirty minutes."

As Snape was about to protest McGonagall interrupted him.

"Severus, I know of the animosity between the two of you, but for the sake of our cause could you please disregard it for a moment?" she asked. "I can't go and let her know myself at the moment."

Snape nodded reluctantly.

"This is settled then. I will see you in one hour," McGonagall concluded before leaving swiftly.

Snape unenthusiastically walked towards the Charms classroom. He had managed to take 80 points from Gryffindor, 30 from Ravenclaw, 20 from Hufflepuff and even 5 from Slytherin when he reached the door. He rested his back on the wall next to the door and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the Charms lesson to be over.

Fifteen minutes, 25 points and 2 detentions later, Snape hadn't moved an inch, but his patience had considerably diminished. A thought raised by curiosity found its way to his mind.

The lesson was almost over; there were barely ten minutes left. Maybe he could get inside discreetly and remain at the back of the room in the dark just to have a look at what Wilson's lessons were like. They were probably not worth attending, but it would give him some ammunition for the next time he belittled her…

Snape silently opened the door, entered and closed the door behind him as silently. He smoothly glided towards a dark corner; no one had noticed him. From the faces he recognised, he gathered it was the seventh year Gryffindors.

Professor Wilson was walking through the ranks while the students seemed to be practising the Disillusionment Charm on their pets, a spell commonly used by wizards on fantastic beasts to distort the vision of any Muggle that may see it. Those who owned no pet were working on owls from Hogwarts's owlery.

"Ron, don't be so brusque with your wand, if you make smoother movements it will work much better, and that goes for any spell," she was instructing when a sudden, strange noise came from Longbottom's desk.

Snape hardly held back a snort. Obviously the boy was as incompetent in other subjects as he was in Potions. Wilson hurried in front of Neville.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Neville apologised, looking completely stunned. "I think… I think I killed Trevor…"

"No, Trevor is all right," Wilson assured, but Snape clearly saw her discreetly performing a quick Healing Charm on the poor toad while the boy wasn't looking. "Just calm down, Neville. Calm down. Here, look at me. Look at me Neville."

Longbottom eventually looked up to the teacher.

"Just relax. You're so focused on trying to get it right that you get it wrong. Now close your eyes," Wilson ordered and Neville obeyed. "When I tell you to and only when I tell you to, open your eyes and cast your spell on your pet. In the meantime simply answer my questions without thinking."

Snape held back another snort - Longbottom speaking without thinking wouldn't be hard to obtain.

"What is your favourite colour, Neville?" Endora asked.

Longbottom frowned and hesitated, probably wondering why she was asking such a question. "Red."

"Which Quidditch team do you support?"

"Er… Montrose Magpies…" Neville replied at a total loss.

The Charms teacher went on, firing questions at him until Neville's answers became quicker, almost instantaneous. Snape knew what she was trying to do - she clearly had no interest whatsoever about the boy's tastes and was only trying to divert his attention - and found himself wondering if it would work, especially with someone as hopeless as Longbottom.

In any case, these were definitely debatable teaching techniques.

"What gifts did you get last Christmas?"

"A broomstick and some Herbology books from my Grandma."

"Do you like grapefruit?

"No."

"Cast your spell."

Neville opened his eyes. "Illusio!" he exclaimed while raising his wand, obviously without even realising it. When he eventually took it in his eyes widened and he looked where the toad was only seconds before. "Trevor?"

"Over there, Neville," Wilson said while indicating the desk-textured toad.

"It… It's Disillusioned! It worked!" Neville cried out with a grin.

Snape snorted. Pure luck. He wouldn't be able to do it again even if he practised the rest of his pathetic life.

Professor Wilson smiled back at the Gryffindor warmly before turning to the rest of the class. Then she froze for a second before turning sharply towards Snape and looking straight at him.

How could she know he was there? Snape wondered. He was sure she couldn't have seen or heard him. Instinct maybe?

A wicked smile slowly appeared on Wilson's lips. "Professor Snape," she greeted, and the students instantly stopped practising to turn simultaneously towards the corner where he was hiding.

"It's a pleasure to see you decided to join us for this lesson in order to improve your Charms skills," the witch went on. "Come on, have a seat," she invited, indicating the vacant seats at the front of the classroom.

Most of the students chuckled, especially Potter and his gang, Snape noticed. Severus held Wilson's defying gaze. Oh, would she pay dearly for this, he thought while lots of plans of revenge were forming in his mind.

The Charms teacher was the first to break eye contact when the bell rang. She turned towards the class. "I want you to practice this spell during your free time. I also want an essay on the necessity of using this charm on fantastic beasts for next week. Less than five feet long, if possible," she added with a quick look towards Granger. The Head Girl seemed slightly disappointed. "The class is dismissed."

The students picked up their belongings and began leaving the classroom. Snape glared menacingly at all who dared glance at him on their way out, and they generally hurried away. Once they were all gone he strode towards Professor Wilson's desk.

"I suppose you found that little game of yours enjoyable," he spat angrily.

"Positively delightful," she confirmed with a grin. "And I suppose you didn't come here to apologise for your behaviour of yesterday regarding that book I asked from you."

"Certainly not! There's nothing to apologise for!" Snape exclaimed indignant. "There's a meeting in the Headmaster's office in less than thirty minutes. Professor McGonagall couldn't come herself to let you know."

The Charms teacher nodded. "I will meet you there then," she replied and looked down to a pile of parchments on her desk.

Snape turned to leave, but changed his mind and turned back to her. "By the way, I would advise you to never try again the little show you performed a few minutes ago," he menaced.

"As long as you stop sneaking in my classroom…" she replied casually.

"I doubt I will remain as patient as I've been until now very long," Snape warned.

Wilson looked up at him sharply. "Because you think you're the one being patient?" she asked irritated. "If only you didn't – "

She stopped dead in her tracks as her gaze trailed down to his neck and frowned. Snape immediately understood what she was looking at and instantly straightened his collar to hide his bruises.

When she looked back at him she no longer seemed angry and had obviously lost the thread of her ideas, whatever they were.

If she asked anything about these bruises, he would hex her right away, Snape decided.

But she didn't say a single word and kept observing him for a long moment. "Maybe we should go to the Headmaster's office immediately," she eventually suggested calmly.

Snape nodded sharply, unsure about her sudden change of behaviour. On their way to Dumbledore's office, she didn't say a thing, even when he took points from a few students for very unfair reasons.

They entered Dumbledore's office, but the Headmaster wasn't there. They both sat in armchairs in front of Dumbledore's desk and waited, both silent.

After roughly twenty minutes Professor Wilson suddenly spoke up almost shyly.

"You know, you can fix them with a Healing Charm."

Snape turned and glared at her. How dare she? How dare she allude to it and make suggestions about what he should do about it? As if he wouldn't heal his bruises if he could!

To perform Healing Charms you had to be somewhat compassionate and kind-hearted. Quite unsurprisingly Snape had never been able to cast efficient ones. He didn't think them worth practising, even considering his activities. In his situation, there were only two possible states: alive or dead. And once dead, you needed no Healing Charm.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied coldly.

"If you don't want to perform the spell on yourself, maybe I can – " she insisted but he interrupted her before she could get any further.

"I need no one's help, especially yours!"

Wilson's answer was cut short by the entrance of the Headmaster, closely followed by the Deputy Headmistress.

"Ah, here you both are!" Dumbledore exclaimed enthusiastically. "Let us begin this meeting, shall we?"

* * *

(A/N: just decided to start teasing you guys with the title of the next chapter every time!)  
Coming next: "_Bets_" 


	8. Bets

**A/N**: Yes, I'm in a posting frenzy! Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 8  
BETS**

"You were right, Albus," Snape began after Dumbledore asked him about the news he had. "In just over four weeks, there will be an attack on Hogwarts."

The other teachers exchanged a couple of concerned looks.

"Do you have any further information on this, Severus?" the Headmaster asked.

"The Dark Lord will send giants. I don't know how many, though," the Potions Master replied.

There was another exchange of anxious glances.

"Giants will be more delicate to deal with than Death Eaters would have been," Dumbledore noted. "Endora?"

The witch seemed worried. "I hadn't planned an attack of giants when setting up the school's defences, but…" She tapped the arm of her seat nervously for a few seconds, her eyes unfocused. "I should be able to put some new traps in place according to this new piece of information."

"Will it be able to stop them?" McGonagall asked.

The Charms teacher shook her head. "Probably only to delay them. I will have to do some research on what can stop a giant; I know too little about them."

"We will probably have to face them ourselves," Dumbledore observed, "but any delay you can cause will be extremely valuable."

"If I may suggest a thought," McGonagall began, "I believe we could ask the help of our Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Rubeus has an extended knowledge of giants. And with the participation of his protégé…" the Transfiguration teacher trailed off and glanced at the Headmaster.

The old wizard nodded thoughtfully. What protégé were they talking about? Snape wondered. He cast a side look at Wilson and she seemed as puzzled as he was.

"Rubeus took under his wing a giant known by the name of Grawp," Dumbledore explained, "and he now lives in the Forbidden Forest."

"There's a giant in the Forbidden Forest?" the Charms teacher exclaimed before Snape could. What had been going through the Headmaster's mind when he had learned this news and done nothing about it? And for how long had it been going on?

"Don't worry," Dumbledore assured, "Grawp was a bit aggressive at first, but he's become almost civil lately."

This wizard was totally demented, Snape concluded. Giants were violent, dangerous and uncontrollable creatures that shouldn't be taken lightly. Why not host one inside the school itself while they were at it?

"I will speak about it with Rubeus then," Endora replied, a bit hesitant.

"I'm sure he'll be extremely helpful," McGonagall insisted.

"Is there any other alternative?" Snape asked animatedly. He didn't like the idea of their fates - especially his - lying in the hands of the half giant gamekeeper.

"Don't you trust Rubeus to have sufficient knowledge about giants?" Dumbledore asked him.

"To be honest, I don't," he replied coldly.

"There is another option," McGonagall offered, "but I doubt you would like it any more than the other."

"Try," Snape insisted.

"We could contact a giant specialist we know of," McGonagall began, "but considering your history with her, I'm unsure as to whether she'd agree to come back to Hogwarts, even in view of the threats."

Severus paled, knowing whom she was referring to. "Nashira," he murmured and shook his head before speaking louder. "She won't come back," he confirmed.

While he was absorbed in the contemplation of long gone memories, Snape was faintly aware of Wilson looking alternately at him and McGonagall.

"Wait a minute…" the Charms teacher started. "Nashira, as in Professor Nashira Achernar? The Care to Magical Creatures teacher before Professor Kettleburn?" Snape saw her eyes widen in shock as she eventually understood. "You and Professor Achernar back then!" she exclaimed with a strange mix of surprise and enthusiasm. "Well there sure were rumours, but I never… Is it why she left at the end of the year?" she suddenly asked him.

Snape sighed and massaged his temples. "Could we please come back to our more urgent concerns?" he pleaded, hoping the Headmaster or the Deputy Headmistress would put an end to this - which of course neither of them did. He had no wish to brood over these memories, especially in front of such an audience.

"Oh my, I have to floo Ann about this!" Endora whispered, looking as excited as a schoolgirl.

Snape glared at her with disgust. "You will not floo any of this to this Ann, whoever she is!"

"Ann Carter, a former Gryffindor in my year," she began explaining, totally ignoring the fact that Snape didn't wish for any kind of explanation. "She's the only one who rooted for the two of you on that bet, you know…"

Snape stared at her as if she were completely crazy, but was somewhat anxious at the sight of Dumbledore's and McGonagall's half smiles, as if they knew what she was evoking.

"You never heard of that bet?" she went on, looking surprised.

He slightly shook his head, wondering what she was talking about.

"Well there was a bet running among the Gryffindors back then about whether you and Professor Achernar were involved." She paused. "You really never heard of it?"

Snape shook his head again, both bewildered and sickened by the fact that some students could be stupid enough to waste time and money on such ludicrous bets.

"Well Gryffindors have always been good at keeping secrets…" she went on with a shrug.

Snape snorted. "Which is why you, as a Ravenclaw, heard about it."

"I dated a Gryffindor," she pointed out.

Oh right, Snape thought with renewed antipathy. By the way, what had happened to her usual animosity towards him? Trust a woman to get all hysterical whenever she heard of some spicy bits of your private life.

"Surely you have heard of the bet about you and I?" she continued.

"No I haven't, and honestly I don't care," he replied, but in truth hoped it had nothing to do with the subject of the other bet.

"About who will kill the other first?" she insisted, looking abnormally enthusiastic considering the subject of the bet.

Snape shook his head, but he had to admit, he was intrigued by this one. The results could be helpful in gauging his reputation…

"You haven't?" Wilson looked positively astounded. "Are you sure you work here? I thought everyone knew about that bet; it's very popular among the students, along with the one about whether you're – "

Snape raised an eyebrow when she suddenly stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"… but I'm digressing…" she eventually concluded nervously.

Was she, really? He had barely noticed, Snape thought ironically.

"I think we now all agree that Professor Wilson should seek the counsel of Rubeus Hagrid," Dumbledore intervened at last. "Endora, do everything you can and keep me informed."

"Certainly," the witch agreed.

"We should also bear in mind that whatever charms are put in place," the Headmaster went on, "it is unlikely all the giants will be stopped. Hence we must prepare to fight the giants ourselves. The other teachers will be warned in due time only, for if the information was to leak out, the students could become alarmed."

Not to mention that the Dark Lord could also hear about the information leak as well, Snape thought, and immediately understand there was a traitor among his followers.

"You are to tell no one about this," Dumbledore continued. "Am I clear?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good. We will have another meeting soon to take stock. Good evening to all of you," Dumbledore concluded, and they all stood up.

Snape left the Headmaster's office, convinced that within an hour, all of the former students Endora Wilson had kept in contact with would know about his past relationship with Professor Nashira Achernar. They in turn would inform the ones they had kept in contact with themselves, and within two days it would come to the attention of his actual students one way or another.

Oh, how he hated that witch. But soon he would get his full revenge, he thought with an evil smirk.

"Minerva," he called when the Transfiguration teacher walked past him.

"Yes Severus?"

"Did you know about this bet?"

"Which one?" Minerva answered back with a malicious smile.

"All of them," Snape insisted with an exasperated sigh.

"Of course I did," McGonagall replied, her smile broadening. "Do you really think I don't know what the students of my House are doing behind my back?"

"And, by any chance…" Snape began. "Would you know who this bet about Professor Wilson and I is in favour of?"

Minerva chuckled at his question. "What I'm about to tell you is only based on what I heard… The odds are thirty to one in favour of you killing her first, while most students seem to think it would be only fair if it were the other way round, and would rather see you dead instead."

Snape smirked. "I ought to improve those statistics a bit," he commented. "One last thing Minerva… This other bet Professor Wilson mentioned… What is it about?"

A mysterious smile stretched on the Transfiguration teacher's lips. "That, Severus, is up to you to find out… It'll be a perfect opportunity to work on your relations with students."

Snape watched the witch walk away before striding back to his study.

* * *

Coming next: "_Duelling Club Revival_" 


	9. Duelling Club Revival

**A/N**: To those who wonder why I put Lupin in the list of main characters: I already wrote the entire story, so I see the bigger picture. I know Lupin is barely mentioned for the moment, but he gets a more and more important role during the second half of the story (just as a teaser: you'll get to read about his childhood, about the night when he became a werewolf...) So I'm afraid those of you who are desperately waiting for more Lupin will have to be patient for a few more chapters...

Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 9  
DUELLING CLUB REVIVAL**

The week that followed their meeting was quite uneventful. Snape still hadn't taken any action against Professor Wilson but was still working on his revenge - and terrible it would be. For the moment she seemed to be dedicating all her free time to the school's defences and was rarely seen outside her classroom or the library, hardly ever going to the Great Hall for lunch.

No, he would wait for the appropriate moment, when she was done with her work for the Order. The Ravenclaw Vs Slytherin Quidditch match the following week would probably be the perfect opportunity for some of his plans, Snape thought maliciously.

The main subject of conversation at school lately was the upcoming first session of Ursaglow's duelling club. However, only students ranging from first to fifth year seemed to be waiting for it eagerly. The older ones had seen the fiasco of Lockhart's duelling club and expected nothing from this new one. No sixth or seventh year student seemed to be planning on attending it.

Hence as Snape taught Potions to seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins on the day the first session of this duelling club was to take place, he didn't expect them to be so inattentive.

"Miss Granger, if you would care to heed your potion you would notice it's boiling, which it shouldn't be doing," Snape growled. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for your lack of attention."

Very rarely had he had any occasion to take points from the conscientious Head Girl during her schooling. He had also taken points from every single Gryffindor student at least twice already since the beginning of the lesson and there had been no protest. There had to be something going on - Gryffindors were usually quick to defend their fellow classmates, objecting to any unfair behaviour.

"Mister Thomas, Mister Finnigan, will you please stop that incessant whispering!" he exclaimed. "Thirty points from Gryffindor!"

They all sounded like undisciplined first years, paying no attention to his constant warnings. But at least first years were impressionable and feared him greatly.

Snape suddenly, violently slammed his hand on his desk. At the noise all the students fell silent and looked up to him.

"If I hear any sound, apart from the sound of your potions brewing, before the end of the lesson in this classroom, it will be three weeks of detention for all of you!" he warned dangerously. When Draco Malfoy sniggered Snape turned sharply towards him. "All of you," he repeated threateningly, making very clear that Slytherins were included.

Malfoy's smug expression instantly vanished.

During the next twenty minutes, Snape tremendously enjoyed the silence of his classroom. Whatever was on the students' minds was obviously not worth three weeks of detention.

When it was the end of the lesson at last, all left the classroom hurriedly - even more hurriedly than usual. Snape strode to the door with a sigh as soon as he noticed his uncaring students had left it wide open in their haste. About to close it, he froze as he overheard a group of students talking right outside his classroom.

"Dumbledore at the duelling club?" Snape instantly recognised the voice of Potter. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Granger replied enthusiastically. "I heard it from Parvati, who heard it from Dean! Professor Dumbledore is going to make a demonstration with Professor Ursaglow!"

"I hadn't planned to go at first, but if Dumbledore is there it's certainly worth seeing!" It was Weasley who had spoken this time.

"We'd better hurry then, if everyone heard about it the place's going to be crowded!" Potter again.

Snape closed the door as they left and walked back to his desk. How naive of them. As if the presence of the Headmaster would prevent the inevitable debacle of this duelling club.

He sat and pulled a pile of essays in front of him. Correcting tests was really the worst part of this job. As soon as a series was done another arrived. He picked up his quill and began reading the first piece of parchment.

Ursaglow was a useless incompetent, an annoying chatterer, an unskilled wizard. Nothing instructive or interesting could come from his initiative. This duelling club would be as ineffective as the first one had been.

Snape scribbled a mark, wrote down a few despicable comments and put the parchment aside. He began reading the next one, his fingers drumming nervously on his desk.

On the other hand, he was intrigued by the Headmaster's participation. Dumbledore probably had something in mind. Did he want to show the students what they might have to do during the soon-to-come war?

Snape scrawled a capital P on the parchment in front of him, put his quill back in the inkpot and crossed his arms, a foot tapping the ground impatiently. Surely nothing worth seeing would happen during the duelling club session, he thought. The only interesting thing that could possibly happen would be Dumbledore hexing Ursaglow off his feet.

Snape brusquely stood up from his chair and strode towards the door. He certainly didn't want to miss that even if there was only the faintest chance it would occur.

When he reached the Great Hall, it seemed all of Hogwarts's students had heard the rumours and were already waiting eagerly. All of the other teachers were there too, including Hagrid, standing close to the demonstration platform - Dumbledore's presence had probably attracted them as well. Even Filch and Mrs Norris were there in a corner, both eying the mass of students suspiciously.

And on the platform were Ursaglow and Dumbledore.

Snape decided to settle in a corner at the back of the room - he didn't wish to join the teachers next to the platform.

"Thank you all for coming in such large numbers," Ursaglow spoke at last. "I didn't expect so much success for this first session! Some of you may already know what a duel is, but for those who don't I'll make a quick introduction. Duelling is an ancient art that appeared during the Middle Age when the need to solve conflicts between wizards in a civil way rose. Of course the term civil is relative since it's common knowledge that – "

Oh no, he was doing it again, Snape thought with an exasperated sigh. When the young man would be done there would probably be no time left for duelling.

" – and it's only when Ministries of Magic were founded all around the world that international rules were set up. They were subjected to many changes along the centuries as the wizarding civilisation evolved, but they have been basically the same since – "

How could Dumbledore remain so calm and smiling? That wizard would forever remain a mystery to him.

"Nowadays duelling is no longer in use as a mean to solve conflicts, and is no more than a sport. It's also an opportunity to practice some spells that could be extremely useful should you have to face dangerous situations such as – "

Why did he come there in the first place? Snape wondered. His contacts with Ursaglow had been fortunately extremely restrained lately, so why torture himself by enduring his endless speech? Snape turned round and moved away.

"Now let's go on with the most interesting part of this session: the duel itself."

Snape turned back. About time.

"Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to agree to a duelling demonstration with me." The young DADA teacher turned to the Headmaster. "Professor, it's an honour and a pleasure," he said with a slight bow.

Dumbledore bowed back with an amused smile, and Snape rolled his eyes. Maybe it was just a game for the old wizard.

"We will now show you the basics of the art of duelling: disarming the opponent and blocking an attack."

Both wizards took their positions on the platform. Once they were facing each other and on their guards, Ursaglow cast a Disarming spell.

"Expelliarmus!" he exclaimed and a red light was cast from his wand.

Dumbledore stopped the attack with what looked like a casual and effortless wave of his wand. Many students applauded enthusiastically.

Ursaglow turned towards the audience of students. "See? This is how it works. Of course in a real duel it wouldn't be quite as easy. Now maybe we could all work on these two spells."

What? That was all? Dumbledore had come only to show how to block a Disarming spell? How absurd; Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards of all times! He should have known it would be a waste of time, Snape thought.

As Severus was about to leave this obvious masquerade, he noticed something seemed to be going on among the teachers. McGonagall had just whispered something at Wilson's ear, and the witch had smiled and nodded. Both had now turned to their other sides and were whispering at their neighbour's ear. The other teachers passed on whatever they had heard until all the teachers had been informed.

Intrigued, Snape decided to wait a couple of seconds.

"You will work in pairs and only use these two spells. Each will try to disarm the other in turn while – "

"Mizar, my apologies for interrupting you…" McGonagall cut in. The young wizard turned to her. "Maybe we could show the students some real duels. All the staff members here would be happy to help."

"Oh. Certainly, Minerva, it's an excellent idea," Ursaglow agreed.

Within a minute all the teachers - except Hagrid this time - had spread over the Great Hall in pairs while Dumbledore and Ursaglow remained on the platform. The DADA teacher seemed to offer the Headmaster to duel, but Dumbledore probably replied he'd rather enjoy watching the others. Ursaglow nodded and looked around for an opponent. But all the other teachers had already found one.

Professor Vector had already started sparring with Professor Sprout, and a large group of students had gathered around them to watch. However, a larger group was gathering around Professor McGonagall and Professor Wilson, who both seemed to be greatly enjoying themselves.

These duels were no demonstrations for the students but real duels, though neither professor had any intention of harming the other. All the students watched the adults duelling in front of them with wide eyes. Occasionally there was some applause when some impressive action had been demonstrated.

Snape watched them with a mix of envy - he was himself very fond of duels - and repugnance - how could they have fun during such dark times? - for a few more minutes before leaving the Great Hall.

Enjoy the moment while you still can, he thought. Soon the Dark Lord's shadow will spread above all of us, and there will be no more time for rejoicing.

* * *

Coming next: "_Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin_" 


	10. Ravenclaw vs Slytherin

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 10  
RAVENCLAW VS SLYTHERIN**

It was early December when the second Quidditch match of the season was to take place, Ravenclaw versus Slytherin. Gryffindor had already played against Hufflepuff a month before, and the results had been largely in favour of Gryffindor.

As Snape entered the teachers' gallery of Hogwarts's Quidditch stadium he briefly looked up at the clouded sky. A light snow had been falling for several days already and it didn't seem like it would be over soon. Snape shivered a bit from the cold before giving a look around the gallery.

Predictably Professor Wilson had come early enough to ensure herself a place at the front rank to support her House's team. She was even sporting Ravenclaw's colours with her blue scarf and gloves. As for the other teachers already present, they were mainly sitting on the seats behind her.

An evil smile playing on his lips, Snape walked straight towards the Charms teacher and silently sat down in the seat next to her. She turned and glared at him as if he were infected with an extremely contagious disease she was very likely to contract just by sitting next to him, but he ignored her and kept looking ahead of him. She eventually looked away with a sigh of exasperation.

After a minute or two of mutual snubbing he eventually spoke up in a very smooth voice.

"What a very fine day for a Quidditch match, don't you think so Professor Wilson?"

The witch glared at him again, looking wary of him. "I suppose," she replied with a shrug.

"Yes, definitely a beautiful day for a Slytherin victory," he insisted purposefully.

Wilson looked back at him sharply and he knew he had hit a nerve. The poor thing obviously expected Ravenclaw to win the game… But with Cho Chang gone and a quite inexperienced Seeker replacing her, the Ravenclaw team had virtually no chance of beating Draco Malfoy and his Slytherin teammates… Holding onto any hope for Ravenclaw was thoroughly pitiful.

"If I were you, Professor Snape, I wouldn't be so hasty and would wait until the end of the game. You could be proven wrong," she warned.

"If you so strongly believe so, I have a little suggestion to spice up the game a bit, if you may hear about it," Snape offered.

She was on her guard, but she looked intrigued. She nodded him to go on.

"Since it has recently come to my attention how fond you are of bets…" he began with a wry smile.

"I'm not – " she tried to object but he went on anyway.

"I thought you might enjoy one about the outcome of this game," he finished.

She stared at him for a few seconds. "I never bet money," she eventually stated.

"Money wasn't what I had in mind," he retorted mysteriously.

"And, pray tell, what did you have in mind?" the Charms teacher asked, looking downright intrigued this time. "I suppose you wouldn't bet that book of yours?"

She was still after that book? Snape made a mental note to read it again some time to see what could be so interesting about it.

"I wouldn't," he confirmed. "But I noticed you weren't very keen on night watches. Maybe we could bet, say… two weeks of night watches."

She blinked at him repeatedly before shaking her head in disbelief with a slight chuckle.

Too bad, Snape thought. It would have been entertaining to see her up almost every single night to keep watch during the next fortnight, as well as to see her lacking sleep every morning.

"As you wish," he concluded. As he was about to stand up to find another seat she spoke up.

"Let's make it a month," she offered.

Snape looked back at her with surprise. "All right, a month of night watches. That will lead us to Christmas break."

She nodded and then crossed her arms across her chest, as if to ensure he wouldn't attempt to shake her hand to seal their agreement.

During the next minutes other teachers entered the gallery, and Professor Vector sat next to Professor Wilson. When Ursaglow arrived at last, Snape made sure to avoid the young wizard's gaze, all too aware that the seat next to him was still empty. But he hadn't counted on Wilson's mischievousness.

"Mizar!" she hailed. "Why don't you seat over there, next to Professor Snape?"

Snape turned to her sharply, hardly refraining from taking his wand out. If only there weren't so many witnesses… He was sure she knew about his aversion to the DADA teacher. She was doing this on purpose.

Snape froze when he felt a hand patting his shoulder. He turned to glare at the offending hand before looking up to glare menacingly at its owner. Even the thick wizard that Ursaglow was soon understood he might have made a mistake, and quickly withdrew his hand with a tense smile. Snape could even hear Wilson stifling a chuckle behind him.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape," Ursaglow greeted as he sat next to him.

Snape only stared ahead of him with a long sigh.

"What a wonderful day! I love snow!" the young wizard went on. "It's a pity there isn't much snow yet, but there'll probably be more later during the winter. I was three years old when I saw snow for the first time, you know. It was when my parents – "

"Welcome to the second Quidditch match of the season, Ravenclaw versus Slytherin! This is Jeffrey Needle, your commentator today!"

Merlin be blessed the game was about to begin, Snape thought, wondering how much longer he would have been able to endure Ursaglow's chattering before casting a Silencio spell on him - or worse. More likely much worse actually - the range of possibilities was wide. Hmm, maybe it wasn't too late to ask the Slytherin beaters to send a Bludger Ursaglow's way some time during the match.

There were cheers when both teams entered the stadium and took off into the air, each player taking his position. Soon after Madam Hooch blew her whistle as the Quaffle and Bludgers were released.

"Millers takes the Quaffle for Ravenclaw! Pass to Carrington, Millers again, pass to Davies, and score! Ravenclaw leads 10 to nil!"

Applauses erupted from all around the stadium, except from the Slytherin gallery.

"I'm sure you all remember Davies' older brother Roger," the commentator went on, "an excellent Quidditch player himself! Today is John's first game in Ravenclaw's team, but it looks like he's already found his place!"

After a few more minutes of game Ravenclaw was already leading 60 to 10.

"Everton passes the Bludger to Nott, the Slytherin chasers enter the Ravenclaw scoring area and - no! Carrington tackles Nott and flies back towards the Slytherin goals!... Yes! Ravenclaw scores again! 70 to 10!"

"Oh, that was a fantastic move!" Ursaglow told Snape. "Those Ravenclaw chasers are talented, aren't they?"

Yes, they were talented, but not as much as Draco Malfoy was as a Seeker, Snape thought while looking for the Slytherin player over the Quidditch pitch. The boy was flying high above his teammates, hoping for a glimpse of the Golden Snitch.

"90 to 10! Ravenclaw is taking a large lead, but - oh! Malfoy just took a dive towards… yes, that's the Snitch! Malfoy is closely followed by Rellinger!"

Everyone in the teachers' gallery stood up to look down at the two Seekers - all but Snape. The Potions Master was sporting a very confident smile - the game would be over in a couple of seconds.

"Oh no! Too bad, Malfoy missed the Snitch by a couple of inches only and now it's gone again! In the meantime Ravenclaw scored again, it's now 100 to 10!"

Snape heard Wilson's sigh of relief as she sat back, while the only indication of his own frustration at the missed opportunity was his clenched fists. The Slytherin chasers had better wake up very soon. And the Keeper had better take some action if he didn't want his position in the team to be reconsidered.

"Oh… It's looking bad for Slytherin, eh?" Ursaglow told Snape and elbowed him.

Snape instantly turned to give the DADA teacher a very nasty and menacing glare. But as always the young man didn't notice anything and kept commenting the game.

"My, Ravenclaw scored once more! If they keep this way, catching the Snitch won't save Slytherin!"

"Professor Ursaglow," Snape called softly.

"Yes?"

"Touch me just once more," he began with a silky voice, "and it will be my pleasure to make sure you never have any opportunity to ever do such a foolish thing again."

Again, Snape heard Wilson's stifled chuckle behind him.

"What do you mean?" Ursaglow asked lamely.

"I mean that if you don't – " Snape began more menacingly, but was interrupted by an overexcited DADA teacher.

"Oh look, Ravenclaw scored again! It's 120 to 10 now, is it? Wow, it's a real slap for Slytherin!"

Ursaglow shouldn't give him ideas such as slapping, Snape thought while the young wizard went on talking, commenting that the repeated fouls from Slytherin didn't seem to help them score.

A few minutes later the score was 160 for Ravenclaw to 20 for Slytherin. Snape noted that all Slytherin players were Death Eaters children. Their main occupation during the summer had probably been all but Quidditch training, which would explain this soon to be disaster if Malfoy didn't catch the Snitch very, very soon.

"Oh, nasty Bludger attack on Millers!" Jeffrey Needle commented. "She lost the Quaffle and fell off her broom!"

Everyone in the gallery stood up again to follow the fall of the Ravenclaw chaser - all but Snape once more. He didn't need to get up to know what was going on for he had his own personal live commentator standing right next to him.

"Ouch, that must have hurt!" Ursaglow remarked as the chaser probably hit the ground. "Oh wait, it's a Ravenclaw chaser that picked up the Quaffle and she's heading towards the goals now! Hey, looks like Ravenclaw's going to win today!"

It took all of Snape's willpower not to push Ursaglow over the railing of the teachers' gallery. Pushing away his idyllic vision of a Mizar-shaped pancake on the Quidditch field - maybe he could also meet a Bludger on his way down? - Snape focused his attention on the match again.

Carrington had just scored, which meant 170 to 20 for Ravenclaw. Oh, would the Slytherin Quidditch team hear about him after this game.

As Snape was mentally preparing his admonishments, Malfoy took a new dive towards the Snitch. This time Snape stood up along with the other teachers to follow the action.

If Malfoy caught the Snitch now the match would end in a draw - 170 to 170. But the Ravenclaw chasers were already heading towards the Slytherin goals with the Quaffle. If Ravenclaw scored before Malfoy caught the Snitch, Ravenclaw would win the game.

All the players on the Quidditch pitch seemed to have understood this as well. The Slytherin chasers were multiplying their efforts to tackle the Ravenclaw ones, while the beaters were sending as many Bludger attacks as they could on the Ravenclaw chasers. In the meantime, the Ravenclaw chasers were dodging and hurrying towards the goals while the beaters were protecting their progression.

Snape's gaze was alternately going from Malfoy to the Ravenclaw chasers. Malfoy was very close to the Snitch and the other Seeker was far behind. But the Ravenclaw chasers were also dangerously close to the Slytherin goals…

The Quidditch stadium became oddly silent, as if the entire audience was holding its breath.

"YES! Ravenclaw scored!" the commentator yelled, erupting with joy along with most of the spectators. "And Malfoy just caught the Snitch! The game is over and it's a Ravenclaw victory, 180 to 170!"

There were cheers all around the pitch - except from the Slytherin gallery from which boos could still be heard.

"Well, it seems Slytherin lost today. Maybe another time!" Ursaglow told Snape enthusiastically. And patted him. Again.

Snape turned to him angrily. That man never understood anything no matter how much you insisted, did he? If a look could kill, Snape's would have Avada Kedavra'ed Ursaglow twice already during the last few seconds.

"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade for a drink?" the DADA teacher invited cheerfully.

"No," Snape replied.

"Oh, then maybe just – "

"No," Snape insisted grimly. As McGonagall walked past them to leave, Snape called her. "Minerva? If you have some time to baby-sit, maybe you could look after Professor Ursaglow for me?"

McGonagall stared at him questioningly as he began to leave the gallery as well.

"Professor Snape?" he heard behind him and froze.

Wilson. The bet.

When he turned round he discovered the Charms teacher grinning broadly at him. She looked as though it had just been announced that Christmas would be celebrated every day until the end of the month.

"My first night watch is tonight," she told him merrily. "It was a pleasure to take bets with you," she concluded and walked past him.

Snape glared at her from behind. She was enjoying this way too much. So much it was a call for retribution.

A sardonic smile suddenly played on his lips. He could use tonight's night watch. He was a spy for the Order after all; his life often relied on his abilities to turn even the worst situation to his advantage… And as a Slytherin he excelled in such activities…

* * *

Coming next: "_Revenge_" 


	11. Revenge

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 11  
REVENGE**

Snape spent the first half of the night very grumpy. Surprisingly enough he still hadn't managed to take any points from any House. It seemed all students were quietly resting in their dorms as they should be, since he hadn't managed to catch any out yet.

"Severus?" a voice echoed behind him. Snape turned to face McGonagall. "Unable to sleep?" she queried.

"Actually I'm replacing Professor Wilson for her night watch," he replied.

McGonagall stared at him for a few seconds. "And how in Merlin's name did you get yourself in this situation?" she asked with amusement, as if she knew he would never have volunteered. Confronted with his stubborn silence she didn't insist. "All right, this is none of my business."

Before Snape could go on his way the Transfiguration teacher went on: "Maybe we can split the school areas so we can cover everything, like we usually do. What about I take the North and West wings, and you take care of the South and East wings?"

"Fine," Snape answered with a shrug. After all these years teaching at Hogwarts, he and McGonagall had developed a routine when on night watches together.

Snape walked past the entrance to Gryffindor tower while heading towards the East wing. His sixth sense suddenly warned him of a presence nearby. All his senses on the alert, he looked around him but saw nothing in the darkness. Still suspicious, Snape kept examining his surroundings cautiously, until he felt some kind of draught in his back, as if someone had just swept past him.

Snape swirled round swiftly and extended his arm to catch a potential intruder, but his hand remained empty. He hadn't dreamt it. It was still close; he could sense it. Snape kept looking around until he heard a sound. The sound of the portrait in front of the entrance to Gryffindor tower being opened.

Snape turned round and rushed back towards the Gryffindor tower, but it was already too late. The portrait was back in its place. The Fat Lady arched an eyebrow when Snape arrived in front of her.

"Who just entered?" he asked adamantly.

"I am not allowed to give that kind of information to you," the Fat Lady replied flatly.

"I am a Professor on a night watch," Snape retorted rather animatedly. "If you refuse to tell me who just entered then let me in!"

"You have no authority to enter the Gryffindor tower. You are no Head of Gryffindor nor Headmaster."

Snape pursed his lips with annoyance. "Very well," he concluded, upset, before walking away. He didn't need to get in to find out who had been sneaking out.

Potter and his friends, of course. Ever since they had entered Hogwarts, they had been breaking rules, oblivious to the dangers they might put themselves in.

Snape strode over the East wing's corridors and levels, hoping to catch a few trespassing students to pass his frustration on. Unfortunately he found none - what was with them all tonight? - until he reached the junction between East and South wings, and the entrance to Ravenclaw tower. And what was happening there puzzled him greatly.

There was an indecent amount of noise coming from the Ravenclaw tower, which was very unlike these usually studious students, especially so late at night. They were probably still celebrating their victory over Slytherin on the Quidditch pitch.

Snape briefly considered talking the Ravenclaw portrait into letting him in - which was bound to fail - before a vicious plan slowly took shape in his mind. A wicked smile appeared on his lips.

Snape walked back a few yards into the East wing, climbed a flight of stairs, and walked to the door opposite the landing. Then he knocked and waited patiently. When no answer came he knocked again, more firmly. And again a few seconds later, quite loudly this time.

Snape heard some rummaging inside at last, and shortly after Professor Wilson opened the door. He had obviously woken her up - something he had _honestly_ not intended to do - if the thick woollen dressing gown she was wearing was any indication.

The witch looked up at him with sleepy eyes as she lazily rested a shoulder on the doorframe.

"What's going on?" she whispered flatly, until her eyes suddenly widened. "Did something happen? Was there any attack?" she queried worriedly, her eyes darting left and right in the hallway as if she was expecting to find something unusual. "I didn't hear anything."

"No, there was no attack," Snape confirmed. "Though I'm surprised you didn't hear anything considering the great deal of noise coming from the Ravenclaw tower."

Wilson stared at him, looking bewildered. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean it seems you have trouble keeping the students of your House under control," Snape replied with condescendence, "for they are still noisily celebrating their victory in their common room."

The Charms teacher crossed her arms over her chest with a very stubborn expression on her face. "As a Professor in charge of the night watch, it's your responsibility to take care of any kind of misbehaviour."

"Absolutely," Snape answered, his voice as smooth as silk. "However, I have no authority over what happens in the common room of a House other than my own."

Wilson silently glared at him during long seconds, looking as if she was trying to figure out whether he was making fun of her or not. Snape decided to drive it home.

"So unless you feel you are unable to exert enough authority on the students of your House, I suggest you go and take care of the situation quickly."

The witch glared at him some more, clearly upset. After a few moments she slammed the door behind her and strode away without adding a single word.

Snape instantly noticed she hadn't bothered to lock her door. Big mistake. He usually didn't indulge in childish behaviour, but had he had the time he would probably had gotten inside and set some… surprises for the Charms teacher. However, the Ravenclaw tower was very close and she was likely to be back in a few minutes. He would have to resort to much simpler tricks.

With a quick flick of his wand and a muttered incantation, Snape locked the door. He didn't use the usual Alohomora spell though, but a more complicated and secure one. Wilson would probably figure it out quickly, but considering how sleepy she looked it might take her some entertaining moments.

Snape moved away and hid in a dark corner at some distance, not wanting his presence to spoil the surprise.

A few minutes later Wilson came back, muttering something under her breath. She looked disconcerted when the door to her rooms refused to open. Snape's lips twitched up sadistically. The witch tried to open the door a couple more times before she started searching her pockets for her wand. And found none.

Snape's smile broadened until it became a large grin, while Wilson began to curse audibly. This was getting better and better: she had left her wand inside and was now locked outside.

Wilson left hurriedly an instant later, after giving a quick furious kick in the door. Snape waited a few moments before leaving as well, resuming his night watch to investigate the South wing.

As he walked past the Ravenclaw tower he noticed no more noise could be heard. It also came as no surprise to him when he found no trespasser all the way through the South wing - obviously all students had agreed to make his night as dull as possible - until he reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

It sounded surprisingly quiet. He had better get inside and make sure everything was fine. As Snape was about to pronounce the password he heard two sets of steps coming his way. He turned and saw Filch and Wilson.

At that moment, Filch probably said something the Charms teacher didn't appreciate, for Wilson suddenly stopped dead in her tracks while Filch continued walking.

"I did _not_ lock myself out!" she exclaimed rather loudly and clearly indignant. Snape smirked.

"Right…" Filch muttered and rolled his eyes. As the caretaker walked past Snape he nodded at him. "Good night Professor Snape."

Snape nodded back. When Wilson walked past him, she cast Snape a long death glare, as though she knew the locked door was his doings.

As soon as they were both far enough, Snape pronounced the password and entered the Slytherin common room. The place was depressingly quiet. Very unusual. Generally, Snape would find at least a couple of students preparing some wicked plan, he would reprimand them boldly, and then give a subtle hint as to how they could improve their plan - so subtle that unfortunately they usually didn't get it. That was how things were meant to be. But not tonight obviously.

Tonight, the Slytherins were too disappointed by the Quidditch results to stay up late at night. Pity. Snape examined the common room a few more minutes until he spotted an offending item.

It was a miniature adult woman with long blonde hair and abnormal anatomic proportions. Probably a Muggle object, Snape concluded while cautiously picking up the aberration - such a _thing_ had nothing to do in his House's common room - keeping it at a secure arm-length and eyeing it suspiciously.

The thing extended its arms towards him. "I love you mommy!" it said with a creaky voice.

Snape instantly dropped the thing and aimed his wand at it, ready to destroy it.

"Let's go kill all these Mudbloods!" it went on.

Snape frowned.

"Dumbledore sucks!" it exclaimed.

Snape smiled. Some Slytherins had probably stolen this object from another House's student and enchanted it to have it make some insightful remarks. He pocketed his wand and left.

During the next hour he strode over the South and East wings a couple more times, still empty-handed. But at least he eventually spotted a small silhouette that promptly retreated in a corner at his approach. It turned out to be a first year Ravenclaw, looking utterly lost.

Snape towered the child menacingly, enjoying the sight of fright in the young student's eyes. The child babbled a couple of incoherent syllables, but quickly gave up trying to say anything when Snape smirked evilly.

"Follow me," he ordered coldly. Then he left swiftly without looking over his shoulder to check the Ravenclaw was obeying - he undoubtedly was.

A few minutes later he was on the step of Wilson's rooms once more, the first year in tow. He knocked. Oh was she going to hate him for waking her up again, Snape anticipated almost enthusiastically before knocking once more.

The door was opened abruptly by a very angry-looking Charms teacher.

"What do you want _again_?" she spat between gritted teeth.

"I believe this student belongs to your House," Snape replied, tilting his head towards the cowering first year.

Wilson only took a brief look at the child. "And?"

"I found him wandering through the corridors. Which is strictly forbidden, as you might know."

Wilson turned to the student. "Kane, you're a first year, right?"

The student nodded uneasily.

"What were you doing outside the Ravenclaw tower in the middle of the night?" she asked.

"I… I got lost, Professor," the student replied sheepishly.

Wilson turned back to Snape. "He got lost," she repeated, as if it was supposed to solve the matter.

"Which is why I took him to his Head of House," Snape retorted.

Wilson stared at him blankly during a long moment. "Professor Snape," she eventually said, her voice surprisingly calm, "you do know how close the Ravenclaw tower is from here, don't you?"

"Certainly," Snape confirmed.

"Do you think you could have possibly taken this student directly back to the Ravenclaw tower where he belongs?" she asked, her voice getting less and less calm by the instant.

"I have to admit this didn't occur to me. I will try to keep this brilliant idea in mind for the next time."

The more Snape arched his eyebrows innocently, the more Wilson narrowed her eyes angrily. The expression on her face was priceless. If it hadn't been up to then, war was now officially declared between the two of them.

Wilson abruptly closed the door, locked it conscientiously while sending him a nasty look. "Professor Snape," she eventually spat, "forget about our bet. I'll take care of my next night watches as was scheduled."

Snape only nodded - he had expected no less. Wilson began to walk away, froze suddenly and turned round.

"Kane, what are you waiting for?" she called rudely.

The first year shivered with fear before trotting behind his Head of House as she disappeared down the stairs.

Was this witch a moody little thing when woken up in the middle of the night, Snape thought with the barest hint of a satisfied smile on his lips. Very far from her usual annoyingly kind and smiling self. Actually she had almost sounded like him on a good day when calling that student.

Snape decided he had fulfilled his night watch duties and returned to his rooms to rest.

The next morning, when Wilson arrived in the Great Hall late for breakfast, her eyes red and puffy with exhaustion, and when she noticed the only free seat at the teachers' table was next to Snape, she cast him a disgusted look before turning round and leaving.

* * *

Coming Next: _Before the Storm_


	12. Before The Storm

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 12  
BEFORE THE STORM**

A few days after the Quidditch match, Snape and Wilson had settled into some kind of unspoken truce. With the upcoming battle against the giants, it was no use fighting one another - they were on the same side after all.

So they both carefully avoided each other and everything was fine - as fine as it could be anyway. However, when they had no other choice than to occupy the same room, the tension between the two of them was very palpable.

Soon the day on which the Dark Lord's attack on Hogwarts was planned arrived. Dumbledore had sent an owl to all the teachers the day before, bidding them to meet him in his office very early the next morning.

Snape, being his usual light sleeping self, was the first to arrive. Dumbledore smiled at him kindly as he took his place in an armchair. Unfortunately, Ursaglow was the next to turn up, and even more unfortunately chose to sit right next to Snape. And then began to talk incessantly. About what, Snape had no idea - he couldn't care less what the wizard was babbling about.

The next to enter the Headmaster's office was Wilson. After saluting Dumbledore and Ursaglow and briefly nodding at Snape, she took the seat the farthest from Snape's. Ursaglow kept talking, less enthusiastically than previously and with a hint of embarrassment, looking alternately at Snape and Wilson, until he eventually fell silent - a real blessing.

All the other teachers arrived sporadically until McGonagall closed the door to the office, and Snape briefly wondered why Hagrid was missing.

"Thank you all for coming so early," Dumbledore spoke at last, "for I have information of utter importance to convey to you. First, today's lessons will be cancelled."

Most of the teachers looked at each other with questioning eyes. Dumbledore stopped the upcoming questions by raising his hand.

"Second and more importantly," the old wizard went on, "I have been informed that Voldemort has sent an army of giants our way. Hogwarts will be under attack very soon."

Snape observed the other teachers with a hint of amusement while they began talking animatedly among themselves. As for Ursaglow, he was totally speechless.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, please..." Dumbledore called soothingly over the brouhaha. A relative silence settled in the Headmaster's office. "While advantageous wards have been set, we will very likely have to participate in the defence of the school ourselves. I am terribly sorry to have to ask this from you but the circumstances demand it." He paused. "We will now all gather in the Great Hall. All four Heads of Houses, please go fetch the students of your Houses. They should all be preparing for breakfast by now. Fill them in on the situation and bring them to the Great Hall."

Snape left the Headmaster's office along with the other Heads of Houses, and headed for the Slytherin common room. Many students were already there, and most didn't seem surprised to see him.

Snape hailed the prefects and asked them to fetch all the other students promptly. Within minutes they were all gathered in front of him. He quickly counted them before he spoke.

"According to Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts will be attacked very soon by an army of giants sent by He Who Shall Not Be Named." Snape noticed Draco Malfoy elbowing Gregory Goyle with a large grin, as if in anticipation. "For your security, I will ask all of you to follow me to the Great Hall. Any questions?" he concluded.

As could be expected, there were none. Some students were even nodding knowingly. Snape was convinced he was in charge of the easiest House to deal with in this kind of situation.

The Slytherins were the first House to reach the Great Hall. Dumbledore and the other teachers were there waiting for them, though Hagrid was still absent. A few minutes later, it was the Hufflepuffs' turn to enter the Great Hall, all students following Professor Sprout very closely. The children looked nervous and anxious, frightened even. None seemed to dare say a single word, and the Great Hall remained eerily silent until the Gryffindor students arrived very noisily.

They were complaining loudly, the oldest ones claiming they could give a hand and help protect the school, the youngest ones supporting the oldest. As for McGonagall, she pointedly ignored their various vociferations until they reached their destination. Then she turned round to talk to them.

"None of you will leave the Great Hall until the school grounds are cleared and safe," she affirmed. "All of Hogwarts's teachers should be more than enough to contain the attack."

The students kept chattering while the Transfiguration teacher ignored them once more.

The Ravenclaws entered the Great Hall last. They were all following Wilson, who looked bored to death. As she looked over her shoulder, half the students raised their hands, as if they wished to ask a question.

"Yes Padma?" the Charms teacher called unenthusiastically.

"Is there any reason why the giants sided with You Know Who?" the seventh year asked.

"I suppose," Wilson replied flatly. When she looked over her shoulder again, there was another wave of raised hands. She rolled her eyes. "Mike?" she sighed.

As the third year spoke, Snape pictured Wilson being questioned by her students all the way from the Ravenclaw tower to the Great Hall. Ravenclaws... Disciplined but way too curious for their own good...

Snape observed the students of his own House: in comparison they looked strangely quiet. Most had probably already heard what was to come either through their highly respectable parents or through their highly respectable housemates.

From the corner of his eyes Snape noticed McGonagall walking up to Dumbledore. He caught up with them in case he would be needed.

"Messrs Potter and Weasley are missing," McGonagall whispered to the Headmaster.

How surprising, Snape thought sarcastically. These two had a thing for not being where they should when they should.

"But Miss Granger kindly informed me where I might be able to find them," McGonagall went on.

Snape looked over Granger. She looked ill at ease, fidgeting with her robes nervously.

"Please go and find them then," Dumbledore told the Transfiguration teacher. "I will keep an eye on the other Gryffindor students."

McGonagall nodded and left.

During the next fifteen minutes, the crowd of students became less and less organised. Filch was muttering under his breath and eyeing the students nastily while he and Mrs Norris patrolled the Great Hall.

Some time later, Dumbledore walked to Snape.

"Severus, did you prepare a preventive batch of Healing Potion, as I asked you last week?" he queried.

"Of course," Snape replied. "It's in my Potions lab."

"Would you care to fetch and bring some of it here?" Dumbledore asked. "I'd rather have some of it handy, just in case something turns ill…"

"Sure," Snape nodded and left the Great Hall.

As he headed for the dungeons, Snape soon spotted McGonagall, Potter and Weasley in the Entrance Hall, discussing animatedly.

"But Professor!" Potter exclaimed. "There are loads of them all around the school!"

Had they seen the giants? Snape wondered.

"Yes! Hermione and I saw them arriving last night from the Astronomy tower!" Weasley cried out.

"And pray tell, Mr Weasley, what were you and Miss Granger doing in the Astronomy tower on a night you had no Astronomy lesson?" McGonagall retorted.

Weasley blushed furiously. "We, hem…" he replied with embarrassment.

"Professor, we had to do something!" Potter claimed.

"It seems to me that the wisest thing to do would have been to warn Professor Dumbledore first," McGonagall observed.

"But we did!" Potter ranted. "He said he already knew!"

"Any problem, Minerva?" Snape intervened quietly as he walked past them. Potter and Weasley looked up at him angrily. These two had yet to learn discipline and respect, Snape thought, glaring back at them with disdain.

"No, thank you Severus," McGonagall replied curtly, looking slightly annoyed by his intervention.

Snape eyed the two students a little longer before walking away. However he could still hear the conversation.

"After warning Professor Dumbledore, you should have stayed in your common room instead of wandering over the school's grounds," McGonagall scolded. "Who knows what could have happened to the two of you if Miss Granger hadn't told me where you were."

"But Hagrid's – "

"That's enough Mr Potter," McGonagall interrupted coldly. "It will be a hundred points from Gryffindor for each of you."

"But – " Potter protested.

"Now follow me back to the Great Hall," McGonagall concluded.

Snape continued his way to the dungeons, wondering how much these two had actually seen. They looked frantic enough to have seen most of what was coming.

But how much was coming exactly? How many giants? These creatures had become a scarce species during the last decades, and no one knew how many survived the wave of extermination throughout northern Europe. And among those, how many had joined the Dark Lord? Would Voldemort send all of the giants under his orders to attack Hogwarts, or just a fraction of them?

This was going to be a long, a very long day. Snape hoped Wilson had done a good enough job to stop some of their attackers, for they could easily and quickly be overwhelmed.

When Snape reached his Potions lab, he cast a quick lightweight spell on the cauldron full of Healing Potion, picked it up, and headed back towards the Great Hall. As he stored the cauldron in a safe corner of the Great Hall, Snape noticed Wilson was still answering questions from her House's students.

"I don't know, Orla, maybe…" she said on a weary tone, casting a hopeful glance towards Dumbledore and McGonagall.

While Snape greatly disliked her - who was he kidding, he loathed her - he had to admit she was of the patient kind.

"May I have your attention please," Dumbledore requested. All the heads in the Great Hall turned towards the Headmaster while the teachers moved to his side.

"Thank you," he went on. "As I am sure you understand now, the school will be under attack soon. I order you to please remain here, in the Great Hall, under all circumstances," at these words Dumbledore stared at Potter intently, "while your teachers and I take care of the situation outside. I am entrusting the prefects, Head Boy and Head Girl, as well as Mr Filch, with the job of maintaining order and make sure none of you leave the Great Hall at any cost."

The prefects nodded, while Filch smiled nastily as he petted Mrs Norris in his arms.

"I hope everything is clear," Dumbledore continued. "We will – "

There was a sudden loud noise coming from outside - unidentifiable though evoking an explosion - shortly followed by a spine-chilling scream - a giant's. Everyone in the Great Hall was quiet. Even the ghosts passing by had frozen in flight.

Snape noticed a first year Hufflepuff crying silently. Pathetic.

"Oooh, that sounded like trap number fourteen!" Wilson whispered almost enthusiastically.

Snape glared at her and shook his head with contempt.

Dumbledore turned to the teachers. "Ladies, Gentlemen, if you are ready, I think we're needed on the school's grounds…" he said as he invited them to follow him outside.

* * *

Coming Next: _Attacked_


	13. Attacked

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 13  
ATTACKED**

As all of them left the castle for the school's grounds, Dumbledore explained what would be their defence tactics, which he had obviously already worked out.

They would form four teams of three wizards, each with at least one good duellist and one good broom rider. As a team would take on a giant, the wizard on the broom would be able to divert its attention and attack it from behind, allowing the other two to lead a hopefully successful frontal attack.

Dumbledore had already worked out the members of each team as well. Snape was paired off with Hooch and Trelawney. Not the worst of teams, Snape was sure that at least Hooch would be able to give him good support up from her broom. As for Trelawney… Well, if she could keep herself alive long enough to see the end of the battle…

Snape quickly noticed the Heads of House had been split in all four teams as the duellists. The ones that would fly were Hooch, Sinistra, Vector and Arienda, the Ancient Runes teacher. There was also a fifth team made of two wizards only, Dumbledore himself and no other than Ursaglow, buffoon extraordinaire.

Snape found it extremely ironic to see Dumbledore had chosen to keep Ursaglow by his side. A great wizard like Dumbledore could stand up to a giant on his own. That showed just how much faith the Headmaster put in the young wizard's abilities. It was easy math after all: if their pair was meant to be as strong as three wizards, and Dumbledore being worth at least four wizards, that left Ursaglow with minus one, Snape concluded with a nasty smile.

Dumbledore would have been better off putting Ursaglow in a team with Madam Pomfrey - who was paired with Wilson and Vector. It could be wise to have a Medi-witch handy if the young man managed to wound himself inadvertently.

All five teams took position and split to cover all the grounds around the castle, except from the side flanked with the lake, all wands out and brooms ready to take off. All their surroundings were white with snow. The giants could be seen, far on the grounds but getting closer fast.

Hooch was holding her broomstick firmly, her eyes set on the distance, while Trelawney was muttering under her breath. The seer's jewellery was rattling madly.

"Nervous, Sybill?" Snape teased. "Didn't you see this coming in your tea leaves?"

"Of course I did," the witch retorted stiffly. "The stars spoke of a great conflict for late December. It has been written for months."

"You wouldn't know who's going to win then, by any chance?" Snape asked mockingly.

"We certainly will," Trelawney assured him, though she didn't seem totally convinced herself.

There was a loud thud afar, and in the distance Snape saw a giant falling to the ground. Probably trap number seven, he snorted. Or was it trap number twelve?

As the giants were getting closer and closer, Snape managed to estimate their number. His conclusion was they were way, way too many. He tightened his grip on his wand. The traps wouldn't stop them all, he thought as another giant fell to the ground.

Hooch and the other broom riders took off. Some flew towards the giants to get a better view of the situation. When Hooch came back, she warned her companions.

"Get ready, there's a very ugly one heading right over here," she said, a twinkle in her eyes.

Snape nodded. Trelawney's jewellery was rattling more than ever. A minute later, Snape could confirm what Hooch had told them - that was one ugly beast. It was five or six yards tall. Maybe even seven, it was hard to tell from down there.

It growled nastily as it crouched and swung its arm at Snape, but he managed to avoid it in a swift dodge.

"_Repulso_!" he cast, and the giant was pushed two steps back.

"_Stupefy!_" Snape heard Hooch cast in the giant's back.

The creature brought a hand to his nape, as if something had just tickled it, before turning round angrily. It took a step and tried to grab Hooch, but the witch was too quick on her broom.

"_Ligarius_!" Snape cried, and a set of ropes flew from the tip of his wand to tie the giant's legs.

It fell forward, throwing up a cloud of snow as it touched the ground. Its arm jerked up as it tried to catch Hooch again.

"_STUPEFY_!" all three of them, Snape, Hooch and Trelawney shouted almost simultaneously. The giant's arm fell back.

Hooch flew down to their level. "One down… but another one would like to have a go at us!"

Snape observed the giant Hooch was indicating. It was even uglier than the previous one. In the distance, Snape could see three other giants waist-deep into the ground, slamming their fists around angrily. A Swamping Charm, he smiled - very clever, with the snow it was undetectable.

Snape gave a quick look around to check how his colleagues were faring. There were already two stunned giants lying in front of a very serene looking Dumbledore, while Ursaglow was fiercely battling one on his own. From where he was, Snape couldn't see or hear what spell the young wizard used, but it resulted in a rigid giant falling head first towards the immobile spell-caster. Ursaglow came back to his senses just in time to avoid being squeezed between a heavy giant and the ground.

Too bad, Snape thought. It had been so close…

Snape turned to check the team on their other side, and saw Vector take a violent hit that ejected her from her broom. While Wilson and Pomfrey neutralised the giant, Snape followed the trajectory of the broom-less yet flying Arithmancy teacher. A blue jet of light aimed at the ground spurted out of Vector's wand. When she touched down, the ground subsided under her weight and she bounced back, as if on a trampoline.

"Severus!" Hooch warned.

Snape turned back and saw a menacing giant dangerously close to him.

"_Protego_!" he shouted.

The Shielding Charm didn't resist very long, for the giant was too strong. Snape took a step backward as the creature took a step forward and lunged at him. But as Snape dodged the attack, it grabbed Trelawney.

The witch yelped in surprise and fear, and let her wand go.

"_Pyro_!" Hooch yelled as flames erupted from her wand to burn the giant's arm, but it didn't let go, on the contrary: out of rage it squeezed all the more. Trelawney yelped again, gasping for air.

From the corner of his eyes, Snape noticed another giant, not walking towards them but past them, heading right for Hogwarts' entrance doors. With another quick look he knew the next closest team was already too busy to take care of another opponent.

They had to get rid of this one quickly.

"_Exquartarium_!" Snape shouted, extending his wand arm towards the giant hand holding Trelawney. He maintained the spell, struggling to spread the giant's fingers out, but it was no use - the giant was too strong.

"_Exquartarium_!" Hooch helped. With both their contributions they managed to open the giant's fingers enough for Trelawney to drop to the ground. She instantly picked up her wand and moved aside.

Snape gave a quick look towards the other giant: it was dangerously close to the castle's entrance. Once there, it would make short work of the wooden doors.

"_Rolanda_!" he called. "Remember that debatable Quidditch feint we discussed a couple of years ago?"

Hooch nodded with a broad smile. "Certainly, Severus! _Accio bat_!"

"Quidditch… They're discussing Quidditch…" Trelawney muttered as she recoiled further while the giant advanced towards her.

As soon as Hooch had her hands around one of Hogwarts training beater bat, she took an impressive dive in front of the giant, diverting its attention from its target. Then she flew between its legs only inches above the ground, disorienting it completely, before straightening up sharply right behind it.

The giant turned round just in time for its jaw to connect violently with Hooch's beater. It fell to the ground under the shock.

"Wooh!" Hooch exclaimed. "Much more fun than with a bludger!"

The giant straightened on its elbows groggily.

"_Stupefy_!" Once again, all three of them had the reflex to cast the Stunning Charm at the same moment.

The giant fell back to the ground just as another attacked them. Snape glanced quickly towards the entrance door: it had been smashed open. There was a giant inside Hogwarts castle. Snape then cast a half panicked look at Dumbledore. As if sensing his gaze, the Headmaster looked at him during his fight with a giant, looked at the open door, then back at Snape with a smile before giving his full attention to his opponent.

So Dumbledore knew there was a giant inside but didn't do anything about it. But with all the children inside… Snape took a quick decision.

"Keep this one busy!" he yelled to Hooch and Trelawney before running back to the castle.

"What? WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING, SEVERUS SNAPE!" Trelawney called with a high-pitched voice.

When Snape reached the Great Hall totally out of breath, he was totally confused to find the giant on the floor, circled by two dozens of sixth and seventh years from various Houses - even a couple from Slytherin. The giant was struggling to get back to its feet but was failing. And Longbottom gave what was probably the final straw of a long series started by his comrades.

The giant fell back to the ground for good. All the students around erupted in a cry of triumph, some asking for the next one to come. Snape recognised many members of the infamous DA, including Potter and friends.

"Mr Filch, make sure no one leaves the Great Hall on the spur of the moment," Snape whispered to the caretaker who had moved next to him.

"Of course, Professor."

Snape hurried out of the castle again to carry on the fight. But the situation had evolved since his leaving: it had worsened. All teams were now fighting off two giants at the same time, even three for some of them, and more were coming.

Snape hastened to his team's side. Hooch and Trelawney were in a delicate situation, barely managing to hold back three giants simultaneously. He stepped in, beating back one of them with a flick of his wand, destabilising another… He and his teammates were too focused on local tasks like defending themselves to manage a group attack.

From the corner of his eyes, Snape noticed a fourth giant converging towards them. A quick look to his sides and he knew everyone was overwhelmed, even Dumbledore was grappling with five giants.

They were doomed to lose. Badly.

And then there was, totally unexpectedly, a deadened roar that froze the giants on spot. And even more unexpectedly, all turned towards the Forbidden Forest. During the fleeting moment that followed, the teachers retreated at a safe distance from the giants. Many had wounds ranging from minor to serious, but all were alive.

There was another growl. Snape finally saw what the giants were looking at: a new giant had emerged from the Forbidden Forest, guided towards the castle by no other than Hogwarts Care to Magical Creatures teacher, Rubeus Hagrid.

The new giant growled once more, and this time some of the others responded. They were… yes, discussing. Snape observed his colleagues: they seemed to be wondering what was going on, talking among themselves. As for Dumbledore, he was smiling broadly.

"Where did that giant come from, do you reckon?" Hooch asked him.

"It lives in the Forbidden Forest," Snape answered. When Hooch cast him a questioning look he shrugged. "One of Hagrid's pets," he added.

The 'conversation' between the giants went on for several long minutes. All the wizards had their wands in hand, ready to fight again when the battle would take a normal turn again. But it didn't. After a last exchange of growls and other usual civilities, the giants turned round and left. All of them, except the last arrived who retreated to the Forbidden Forest again, closely followed by Hagrid.

There was a couple of seconds of hesitation before everyone cheered, clapping enthusiastically, hugging one another. Snape accepted a reasonable handshake from Hooch.

Soon they were all back in the Great Hall, and Dumbledore immediately reassured the students about the situation. He also congratulated them for beating a giant on their own. A few minutes later, the students were sent back to their Houses' common rooms, the Great Hall and the school grounds were cleared of any trapped or unconscious giant, the doors were mended, and Madam Pomfrey was taking care of the most seriously wounded while Snape distributed his Healing Potion to the others.

Sinistra, an arm bleeding profusely, and Arienda, limping and helped by Sprout, were lining up while Pomfrey was taking care of Vector. The Arithmancy teacher's gliding flight, while deadened, had given her some serious concussions.

"I'm not sure what happened, but I'm glad it did!" Hooch told Snape as he handed her a goblet of Healing Potion.

He nodded, looking around to see who else could use some of his potion. Dumbledore was of course uninjured and, surprisingly, Ursaglow was too. Either that man had more talent than Snape credited him with, or he was luckier than was wizardly possible. Snape opted for the latter - maybe Ursaglow was suffering from a Rincewind² Syndrome.

He then spotted Wilson, sitting at a table, a trickle of blood dripping from her forehead down to her cheek. He walked up to her and laid a goblet of potion in front of her. She stared at the cup, looked up at him suspiciously, stared back at the goblet. She took a sniff at its contents before pushing it away from her.

"It's only Healing Potion, it won't kill you," Snape mocked.

"There's no cardamom in a Healing Potion," she retorted matter-of-factly.

"How would you know?" he provoked, knowing full well she was right - he had added cardamom for the taste since an unflavoured Healing Potion was almost undrinkable.

The Charms teacher glared at him.

"As you wish…" Snape concluded, taking the goblet of potion back to give it to a more receptive patient that wouldn't think he was trying to poison him.

* * *

²: Rincewind is one of the main characters in Terry Pratchett's excellent Discworld series. Rincewind is a wizard, but not a very good one, since he knows only one spell (a spell he can't even use). He also has an uncanny ability to escape the most perilous dangers, as a result of his incredible luck. 

Coming Next: _New Plans_


	14. New Plans

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 14  
NEW PLANS**

Snape rummaged in the drawer where he kept all his old grading records for NEWT level, transferring all its contents to his desk. Having always been a very methodical wizard, it was only a matter of seconds until he found the ones concerning his first two years of teaching - they were the ones at the very bottom of the pile.

He quickly turned the pages until he reached the Ravenclaw section, browsed through the names until he found the entry labelled 'Lupin, Endora', and rapidly looked over the grades he gave Wilson back then.

Not any 'Outstanding', a couple of 'Exceeds Expectations', many 'Acceptable' and a few 'Poor'. In a few words, Wilson's grades in Potions had been just above the average. Certainly not excellent, but not awful either, which usually indicated a lack of interest from a Ravenclaw student.

He could have come to that conclusion without looking through his old records, Snape thought. However, the Charms teacher seemed to know the composition of the Healing Potion - quite a feat from someone who disliked Potions so much.

Ravenclaws and their paradoxical thirst for knowledge…

But this disinterest wasn't an isolated instance. It seemed that nowadays, more and more wizards and witches were turning their backs on the ancient Art of Potions. Most were now buying ready-to-use potions instead of ingredients to brew them themselves. Many an apothecary had closed its doors these last years because of this trend.

Such a pity, really…

While he had some spare time, Snape also read '_Combining different kinds of magic: great possibilities but terrible dangers_' again to try and see what was so special about it for Wilson to be so eager to lay her hands on it.

Overall it wasn't much to write home about, but there was an interesting section about curing curses that could be of help with his ongoing project. In the same section there was also a part quite worthy of note, dealing more specifically with poison-induced curses, a topic hardly ever tackled in works of any sort.

Christmas holidays were coming soon, and with them the perspective to be able to spend most of his time on his project. Hopefully these two weeks would be quite free of any Order business once the big end-of-year meeting passed.

During the latest meeting, Dumbledore had let them know that he was in negotiations with the giants. Nothing was accomplished yet, but Grawp had won them a valuable delay. Now Dumbledore was spending a lot of time in discussions with the giants to convince them to join their side.

The information about the attack on the school was hushed up. The Daily Prophet barely mentioned some ructions, but nothing educated. The Quibbler had some of its facts truthful, but had mixed everything so much that the result was totally inaccurate.

Christmas holidays came at last. Snape took a malicious pleasure in giving loads of homework to his students on the last day of class. Of course some complained, which gave him a last-minute opportunity to take House points before the end of the term, as well as to add even more homework to the list - really, they ought to know better.

In the evening he watched the students carry their heavy trunks down Hogwarts corridors with unconcealed satisfaction. Two weeks, two full weeks to work on his project, free of whining students, free of disappointing pupils.

Wishful thinking… Later the same evening, his work was interrupted by the waking of his burning Dark Mark. He put everything on hold and disapparated a few minutes later.

While obviously still in central Europe, the location was not the same as for the last Death Eater meeting. Snape took his place in the circle after the greeting ritual, and observed the Dark Lord anxiously - he looked upset, really upset, which was never a good omen for any of them.

"The attack on Hogwarts last week," the Dark wizard eventually spoke, his voice smooth and dangerous, "was very close to what I would call a pitiful disaster."

The Death Eaters were very silent around him.

"Not only has the attack caused only minimal damage, none of it permanent," he went on, "but the giants are beginning to turn their backs on us." He paused. "Nott."

Nott took two apprehensive steps forward. "Yes, Master?"

"You were in charge of the dealings with the giants, Nott, weren't you?" the Dark Lord questioned.

"I was," Nott confirmed uneasily.

"Would you care to explain me what happened, then? Why did the giants let us down?" Voldemort asked.

"I– I don't know, Master."

The Dark Lord smiled nastily, inching closer to Nott. "Why did the giants let us down?" he articulated slowly and menacingly.

"I honestly don't understand, Master," the Death Eater replied in a rush, "our agreement was very clear. They were supposed to continue the attack and do much more damage than that, and in return we – "

"Crucio!" Voldemort interrupted. "I know full well the terms of the deal, Nott!" he exclaimed angrily while the Death Eater fell to the ground, contorted with pain under the curse. "But I can't understand why they would have broken our agreement!"

Nott kept yelling until the Dark Lord eventually lifted his wand. After breathing heavily for a few seconds, Nott stood up to face his Master again. Voldemort's wrath hadn't lessened.

"Thanks to your incompetence; by now Dumbledore is probably already luring the giants to his pathetic side. Now listen to me closely," the Dark Lord threatened. "Win them back. Surely you know how to bribe them, Nott?"

"Of course, Master. Of course," the Death Eater hastened to answer.

"At any cost I don't want that fool to succeed," Voldemort went on. "The giants will be on our side, or they will be on none. Do I make myself clear?"

Nott nodded vigorously. "Certainly."

That was crystal clear, indeed, Snape thought. Either Nott managed to get the giants back to Voldemort's side, or he would have to get rid of them.

"Be careful, Nott, for I will not accept another faux pas from you," the Dark Lord concluded with a dismissing wave of the hand.

Nott moved back to the circle of Death Eaters, probably very grateful to be still alive.

"Snape," Voldemort called.

Severus tensed briefly before stepping forward. "Yes, Master?"

"Since Nott seems unable to tell me what happened at Hogwarts and since you were there, you surely can, can't you?" Voldemort asked.

"Of course," Snape replied.

"Tell me what stopped the attack, then" the Dark Lord enquired.

"It was a giant. Not one of those on our side, this one came from the Forbidden Forest," Snape explained. "It was led by Hagrid, the half giant gamekeeper."

Voldemort interrupted him impatiently. "I know who Hagrid is. But how could one giant stop all the others?"

"It talked to them," Snape replied, half expecting not to be believed. Voldemort gestured him to go on. "I can't tell what it said exactly, but it was enough to convince the others to interrupt the attack and leave."

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed as he studied him. "Did you know of the existence of this giant?"

"No, but I suspect Dumbledore did, even though he never informed us of the presence of this giant," Snape answered.

Voldemort remained silent for a second. "Did Dumbledore know about the upcoming attack?"

It was no use lying about this, the Dark Lord probably suspected the answer.

"He did," Snape replied. "Very early on the morning of the attack he summoned all the teachers to his office to explain the situation."

Voldemort nodded and gestured him to return to his place. For once, this meeting was going rather well for him, Snape thought.

"As you have all noticed, this last operation was a failure," the Dark Lord said with disappointment in his voice. "I will not allow any other," he added firmly. "Which is why I expect the next to be a total success."

This was getting interesting… This was usually when Voldemort would explain all about his new plans. His love for bragging about his tactics would be the end of him, Snape presumed.

"A few nights from now, I will send some of you to the Ministry of Magic, more specifically to the Committee on Experimental Charms, to make away with some… things I would like to put my hands on," Voldemort ended mysteriously.

A raid on the Committee on Experimental Charms… Now that was something new…

"Crabbe, Avery, Malfoy, you will remain here for further instructions," the Dark Lord went on. "All the others, you are dismissed."

Snape apparated just outside Hogwarts grounds a few seconds later. The Committee on Experimental Charms… What did Voldemort have in mind, exactly? And why didn't he tell what he wanted to retrieve from there?

The grand meeting of the Order of the Phoenix the next day at the Headquarters would be the perfect opportunity to discuss these questions and take appropriate measures, Snape concluded as he returned to his rooms.

* * *

Coming Next: _Decisions_


	15. Decisions

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 15  
DECISIONS**

Snape knocked lightly on the door of number 12, Grimmauld Place - the last thing he wished for was to wake up the dormant portrait of Mrs Black. After Sirius Black's death, it was Potter who inherited the estate, according to his godfather's will, and the boy had allowed the Order to keep using the place as its headquarters.

It was Tonks who opened the door, inviting him in silently. He followed her into the hall, and as he walked behind her he instantly noticed the odd alignment of Tonks, a medieval suit of armour against the wall, and in between the misplaced corner of a rug reluctant to remain flat on the ground.

Like a dragon in a parchment shop, Snape saw the incident coming even before Tonks stumbled over the carpet's corner to crash in the armour, just early enough to whisper a silencing spell before any sound echoed in the hall.

As he helped Tonks up, Snape cast a cautious look towards Mrs Black's portrait, but they had obviously avoided the worst.

"Thanks, it would have been the third time today," Tonks confessed in a murmur. "The others are in the meeting room."

It was the dining room, converted into a meeting room, that Tonks was alluding to. The various changes hadn't managed to rid the room of the creepy atmosphere common to the entire house. Even the flames in the fireplace didn't spread enough warmth to make it welcoming.

When Snape entered the meeting room, almost all the other core members of the Order of the Phoenix were already there. Dumbledore was conversing with Shacklebolt and McGonagall, Lupin with his sister in a corner of the room, and there were several redheads around - Weasleys.

"Snape," a voice he knew all too well greeted him.

He turned to face the other Order member. "Moody."

"Still haven't become a turncoat?" the former Auror asked ambiguously.

"Obviously I already did long ago, or I wouldn't be here," Snape provoked.

"So it seems," Moody replied, his normal eye narrowing slightly while his magical one examined Snape closely.

Severus rubbed his forearm nervously - he always felt ill-at-ease when that magical eye was turned on him.

"If you will excuse me," he said as politely as he could and moved away from Moody.

Snape walked towards Dumbledore, and made his best effort to intervene without interrupting the ongoing conversation.

"Albus, could I please have a word with you?" he asked. He wanted to fill in the old wizard on the Death Eater meeting privately - not all members of the Order knew his exact role and he'd rather it remained this way.

The Headmaster turned his perceptive eyes on him. "Of course, Severus."

Snape followed Dumbledore to a corner of the room, all too aware of Moody's magical eye following them.

"Any important news?" Dumbledore guessed.

Snape nodded. "The Dark Lord is planning a robbery at the Committee on Experimental Charms within a few days. He wants to steal something from there, but I don't know what or why."

Dumbledore looked contemplative for a few seconds. "Anything else?" he asked, and Snape shook his head. "Thank you," the Headmaster concluded.

A few minutes later, once all the expected members had arrived, they all sat around the large table, and Dumbledore stood at its head.

"Ladies, Gentlemen," the old wizard began, "I am afraid today's meeting agenda has changed due to last-minute information of utter importance concerning the plans of our enemies."

Snape felt McGonagall's fleeting gaze on him - she had probably guessed who was at the origin of the new piece of information.

"According to our source," Dumbledore went on, "Voldemort intends to steal something from the Ministry of Magic very soon, more specifically from the Committee on Experimental Charms."

After a few silent seconds while the audience evaluated these facts, Emmeline Vance eventually spoke up. "Do we know what he wants to steal, exactly?"

"Unfortunately, no," Dumbledore replied.

"We should let the Ministry know; it concerns them directly," Elphias Doge suggested.

"I doubt it would change anything," Moody objected.

"Why?" Doge insisted. "Now that Fudge is no longer Minister of Magic, they trust our judgement more."

"It still wouldn't change anything," Moody persisted.

"I don't think they would take the threat seriously enough," Kingsley Shacklebolt backed up. "A dozen of new possible attacks on the Ministry are reported every day, so why trust this one more than another? We don't have enough information to convince them."

"Plus they still don't really recognise the Order as an institution," Bill Weasley added.

"Whatever it is Voldemort wants, he mustn't get it," Hestia Jones stated.

"Which is why we have to find a way to spoil his plans," Dumbledore confirmed.

Snape noticed Lupin whispering something into his sister's ear. Wilson whispered something back, shrugging and shaking her head.

"What can we do, then?" someone asked.

"We could mount guard," Vance suggested.

"But we don't know when the attack will take place exactly," Arthur Weasley objected, "and the Ministry would undoubtedly notice our presence after a while, which will make them suspicious about us. Suspicious in a bad way."

"If only we knew what the Committee was working on these days, we would be able to make a more educated decision," McGonagall remarked.

"Endora, would you be able to answer this question?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.

All heads turned towards Wilson.

"Well, I used to work at the Committee on Experimental Charms, but it was before… I mean, it was five years ago…" Wilson corrected hastily with a hint of embarrassment in her voice, leaving Snape wondering what she had intended to say initially. Before what?

"But I believe you still have contact with some of your former colleagues," Dumbledore insisted.

"Of course, but they won't tell me a thing. Keeping the work secret is part of the job," Wilson countered. "They know I know it, and they would become suspicious should I ask too many questions. I can still try, though…"

Dumbledore looked slightly disappointed, while Wilson went on.

"And anyway, at that time of the year the - oh," she ended awkwardly, an expression of comprehension dawning on her face. "Oh," she said again with a nod, deep in her thoughts.

"Oh, what?" Moody asked impatiently.

"Well… All year long, the Committee receives all kinds of Experimental Charms from all around the country for approval," Wilson began to explain. "The applications are examined during the first months of the year, and the rest of the time we work on our own experiments. There are always loads of applications arriving during December, because the creators know they have to hand them before December, 31st if they don't want to wait another year to have their experiments examined."

"So at the moment, there are dozens of Experimental Charms waiting for approval at the Committee?" someone summed up.

"I'd rather say hundreds of them," Wilson corrected, "still unclassified."

"Voldemort might want one of them for his own personal use," Vance suggested.

"It could be any of them," Jones remarked.

"Or all of them…" Dumbledore noted, his gaze far away.

"Not to mention that every year, we receive an assortment of Experimental Charms flirting dangerously with the Dark Arts," Wilson added. "Of course, they're rejected immediately, but at this time of the year the applications aren't sorted yet… And from what I heard, the number of that kind of applications has been increasing these last years…"

Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "I reckon that in this new light, we have only one option left," he said. "Steal all the Experimental Charms ourselves before Voldemort does."

"But the Ministry…" someone began.

"We don't have the time to deal with the Ministry," Dumbledore stated. "We must take action as soon as possible; tonight would be best. We'll inform the Ministry afterwards."

Dumbledore paused for a second and gave a circular look to make sure no one disagreed with his decision.

"All right," he went on. "I need one of you to volunteer to lead a team to the Committee tonight."

"I know the Committee's premises by heart," Wilson spoke up before anyone else could. "It would be only natural for me to go."

"All right," Dumbledore nodded. "I want you to be ready in two hours, Endora. I will contact seven other members of the Order to accompany you; they'll meet you here." He turned to the other members. "Thank you all for coming. I will keep you informed on the operations as I see fit. Good evening," he concluded.

Everyone stood up and made for the door, more or less quickly depending on the obligations each had. Snape, not in any hurry, waited for everyone to leave. Dumbledore remained in the meeting room, and Snape was the last to leave with Lupin and Wilson.

"No, I'll just wait here," Wilson was telling her brother. "Come on, I'll walk you to the door."

As they walked towards the hall, both noticed Snape was just behind them and soon fell silent. His presence was making them uncomfortable, Severus remarked with satisfaction. He decided to taunt them a bit.

"What a lovely house this property has become," he began innocently. "It's such a pity Black can't take advantage of it."

Snape could almost feel Lupin tensing next to him.

"If only he hadn't been so reckless and had followed my advice to stay quietly at home while - "

He never had the chance to finish his sentence, for Lupin had just done something he would have never expected from him: he had seized Snape by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"How _dare_ you!" Lupin exclaimed angrily.

"Remus!" Wilson cried out, grabbing her brother's shoulders in an attempt to tear him away from Snape, but she wasn't strong enough.

"How dare you make fun of that?" Lupin went on, flames dancing in his eyes.

"Maybe because your friend was stupid enough to - "

Lupin slammed him against the wall again, more violently this time.

"Remus, this is ridiculous, let him go!" Wilson tried to reason, but it was no use: the ever so calm and patient Lupin had lost his usually so well kept temper for good. Snape might have smiled smugly if the werewolf hadn't just taken his wand out and aimed it at him menacingly.

"He might not have left if you hadn't spent a whole year teasing him!" Lupin shouted furiously, edging the tip of his wand closer to Snape's neck. "Telling him how useless he was to the Order!"

"Remus, for Merlin's sake, he's not worth it!" Wilson pleaded, trying once more to pull on her brother's shoulder, but he pushed her away carelessly.

"Provoking him on grounds you knew were touchy!" Lupin went on just as passionately. "Didn't you get what you wanted, Severus? Didn't you?"

Snape remained silent, holding Lupin's intent gaze without batting an eyelid. The werewolf's next sentence was pronounced very quietly, almost in a whisper, which made the tone all the more menacing.

"If only you weren't so important to the Order I would – "

"REMUS!" Wilson interrupted, outraged.

"Yes, Remus, you would what?" Snape provoked with a sneer. "The thing is, you wouldn't do anything. You don't have the guts, you never had. Always in the wake of Potter and Black…" he concluded with disgust. Then he hissed in the werewolf's ear, "but now that they are both gone, what would you do, Remus?"

Severus was very aware of the hand shaking with rage that was pointing a wand dangerously close to his neck.

"Oh, fine, kill one another, for all I care!" Wilson suddenly exclaimed heatedly before heading down the corridor, her feet pounding angrily on the ground. Mrs Black instantly shrieked various kinds of insults.

Lupin seemed distracted by Wilson's departure and he frowned with concern, releasing his hold on Snape's collar.

"No, wait! Endora!" he called.

"Can't make a decision without your sister's approval?" Snape mocked.

"Oh, believe me, I can…" Lupin affirmed as he turned towards Snape again, still aiming his wand at him. "But I think she's right on one point. You're not worth it."

With these last words Lupin left him and disappeared down the corridor his sister had just seconds before. Snape adjusted his robes and headed for the entrance hall. He had more important concerns to deal with than a werewolf's soul-searching.

* * *

Coming Next: _Exposed_


	16. Exposed

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 16  
EXPOSED**

Snape was woken up abruptly in the middle of the night, his Dark Mark throbbing like it rarely had. How long had it been burning already? he wondered anxiously. If he was late for one of the Dark Lord's meetings… He shivered and jumped out of his bed, getting dressed hurriedly and wondering if he should warn Dumbledore - no, he was probably already late.

Another meeting so soon after the last… This was unusual, extremely unusual even, to be called two nights in a row. This had to be related to the business with the Ministry, since the Order's raid on the Committee on Experimental Charms was on the same night.

It could mean only two things, Snape reflected as he walked on Hogwarts grounds. Either the Order's operations had gone according to plan and Voldemort was furious when he learned about it, or it had gone wrong because Voldemort had gleefully spoiled it.

Either way, Snape would know very soon the reasons for this unexpected meeting, he thought as he apparated in some place unknown to him. It was too dark for him to have a guess at the location.

Snape silently took his place in the circle of Death Eaters, relieved to see he wasn't late. The Dark Lord was pacing back and forth angrily in the middle, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. He kept striding in silence for a long time, so long it could have been minutes, until he finally came to a stop.

"I should have guessed long ago that something was wrong," Voldemort spoke softly yet dangerously. "The failure of the attack of the giants on Hogwarts, Dumbledore's readiness… It was so obvious…"

The Dark Lord paused and paced some more. Snape was getting uneasy.

"It seemed that our enemy always managed to know beforehand what we were going to do," Voldemort went on. "Such a frustrating thing… It was as if someone in on the secret was informing them… Ludicrous, isn't it?" the Dark Lord continued with a nasty smile.

Snape was feeling really uncomfortable, now.

"But I had no evidence… so I set up a trap. And was pleased to see my target rise to the bait…"

The Committee on Experimental Charms. It was an ambush, Snape concluded with horror. He had sent them directly in the snake's mouth.

"After I informed you all of my plans," Voldemort went on, "several members of the Order of the Phoenix came to the Ministry of Magic to retrieve from the Committee on Experimental Charms what they thought I wanted. Imagine their face when they discovered Dementors there, waiting for them…" he added with a wicked smirk.

Dementors. That was why Voldemort had asked Malfoy to stay the last night, along with Crabbe and Avery. Malfoy was in charge of the dealings with the Dementors… Snape suddenly wondered what had happened to the team sent by the Order to the Ministry. Fighting wizards would have been reasonably easy, but no one was ever truly prepared to face a bunch of Dementors.

"Someone here," Voldemort articulated slowly, casting an intimidating circular look at the Death Eaters around him, "is betraying me… And none of you will leave this place before I find out who it is."

Snape took a deep breath and emptied his mind - he would have a hard time getting out of this one.

"Whoever the traitor is," the Dark Lord continued, "he managed to escape my probing until now. So I suppose resorting to Legilimency to out him would be useless."

Snape stared at Voldemort. How did he expect to reveal the spy, then?

"I decided to resort to… more traditional techniques," Voldemort said maliciously. "Torture has always borne fruit…"

Snape shivered, and for a moment he was glad to be clad in dark coat and mask that hid his features. Did Voldemort mean he was about to torture each of them until one confessed his true allegiance?

"During the intervention, we managed to capture three members of the Order of the Phoenix," the Dark Lord explained with a satisfied smile. "Surely one of them will be able to tell me something about this traitor…"

Snape felt more and more ill-at-ease by the minute, his hand clutching his wand nervously under his coat. He had to be ready to disapparate as soon as his name would be revealed, but had to remain as long as possible to gather as much information as he could.

The Dark Lord nodded to Malfoy, and Malfoy turned and waved towards shadows outside the circle that Snape hadn't noticed until then.

Two Dementors entered the circle, escorting a ragged wizard. Snape didn't recognise him, which comforted him somewhat - he wouldn't be able to reveal his identity.

"Your name," Voldemort commanded sharply.

The wizard remained stubbornly silent.

"_Crucio_!" the Dark Lord exclaimed.

He maintained the curse for several seconds on the shrieking wizard, but Snape knew he was using far less than his maximum potential.

"Your name," Voldemort repeated more pressingly.

"Aarhus Reipurth," the wizard eventually admitted reluctantly, catching up his breath.

"Tell me, Reipurth, what were you supposed to take from the Committee on Experimental Charms?" Voldemort pried.

Reipurth looked away. Honestly, if he was hoping to get away like that, he was a fool, Snape concluded.

"_Crucio_!" the Dark Lord exclaimed again. "I'm not a patient wizard," he remarked almost casually as he lifted his wand, while Reipurth was still writhing on the ground with pain. "You'd better answer my question before I decide you made me lose too much time."

Reipurth hesitated visibly. "We were supposed to take everything," he confessed in a whisper.

"Everything, really?" Voldemort asked with amusement. "I would have thought Dumbledore to be better informed than that. How could he know I was planning an attack on the Ministry without knowing what I intended to take exactly? Could it be…" he paused dramatically, "because I didn't tell his spy?" he ended, casting a new look across the circle of Death Eaters, causing Snape's blood to run cold.

"What a poor job you are doing, sending your friends right into my claws!" Voldemort continued provocatively.

While Snape knew the Dark Lord wasn't talking to him specifically, it was spine-chilling.

Voldemort turned back towards Reipurth. "Who informed you of my plans?" he asked menacingly.

The wizard shook his head lightly.

"_CRUCIO_!" the Dark Lord cast again. His almost full power Cruciatus betrayed the fact that he was slowly losing his temper. "Don't try my patience and tell me who informed the Order of my plans!" he threatened.

"I don't know! I swear, I don't know!" Reipurth yelled between cries of pain, spasms agitating his body squirming on the ground.

Voldemort lifted his wand at last and observed the wizard.

"_Legilimens_!" the Dark Lord exclaimed, his eyes boring intently into Reipurth's during a few seconds, until he sighed. "You're boring," he said with disgust. "You don't know anything worthy of interest. _Avada Kedavra_!"

Voldemort stepped over the lifeless body of the wizard to talk to Malfoy. "Bring the next one."

Once more, Malfoy turned and waved to a couple of Dementors, who escorted a new prisoner. Snape briefly had a lump in his throat, but he didn't recognise the witch that entered the circle of Death Eaters.

Snape was beginning to think he may actually manage to get away from this mess alive. After all, out of the eight members of the Order sent to the Ministry that night, it was very likely there was only one who knew him: Wilson. She was a good duellist, he could concede this at least. It was doubtful she would have been captured by a couple of Dementors.

When the witch discovered her partner's dead body, she panicked suddenly. "No… No, no, please…" she pleaded on the verge of tears, trying to escape her captors fearfully. "Please, I'll tell you everything you want, but please don't…" she broke into tears.

Snape made a mental note to tell Dumbledore to stop recruiting the members of the Order in boxes of all flavour beans.

"Very well," the Dark Lord hissed with a half satisfied smirk. "Then maybe you, at last, will be able to tell me who informed you."

"I- I received my orders from Dumbledore," she stuttered, choking back her tears.

"I don't think you understood what I meant," Voldemort said slowly, almost seductively, as he edged closer to the witch. "Who informed the Order of the planned attack on the Committee on Experimental Charms?"

"I- I don't know…" the witch admitted pitifully, her lower lip trembling.

The Dark Lord shook his head lightly as if he were very disappointed with her and clasped his wand, toying with her fear.

"Wilson! Wilson would know!" the witch suddenly exclaimed in a last pathetic attempt to save her life.

At this moment, Snape would have gladly hit his forehead with his palm out of spite.

"Wilson?" Voldemort repeated.

"Yes, Endora Wilson! She's the one who was leading our party, she would probably know!" the witch confirmed.

"Interesting," the Dark Lord murmured. "_Avada Kedavra_," he added almost casually as he cast the killing curse.

The witch's body soon rested next to Reipurth's.

"Malfoy, the last one," Voldemort ordered.

Snape was half panicked at the sight of the next prisoner, but managed to remain still. Escorted by two Dementors was the only one in the intervention team that was able to give his name away.

Wilson.

And the Dark Lord knew she was in on the secret of his spying…

He was in trouble. He was in big trouble this time, he realised. He clutched his wand a bit further.

* * *

Coming Next: _The Watcher_


	17. The Watcher

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 17  
THE WATCHER**

When Wilson entered the circle of Death Eaters, she looked very pale. When her gaze fell on the two other members of the Order, lying dead on the ground, she paled even more. She cast a look around her, her lips moving silently, as if she were trying to count the Death Eaters, but gave up halfway, looking discouraged.

After a nod from Voldemort, the Dementors left and were replaced by two Death Eaters, taking good guard around Wilson.

"Endora Wilson, I presume," the Dark Lord eventually said.

The witch ignored him and remained silent, not even looking at him, her eyes rooted to the ground. Snape supposed she feared Legilimency and preferred to avoid eye contact with the Dark Lord as much as she could. Voldemort could undeniably end this in only five seconds, but obviously he had decided to play with her a bit.

Voldemort waved Malfoy to come near him, and the Death Eater gave him something before returning to his place.

"I believe this is your wand," the Dark Lord declared as he wielded the item in front of him.

Wilson still didn't say a word or look at him. Voldemort broke the wand in two and let the bits fall to the ground one by one, staring at her provocatively. Breaking another wizard's wand was the most contemptuous thing a wizard could do, and this would have been all the more meaningful if the two wizards involved were purebloods. But at the moment, Wilson looked much more concerned by the fragments of her broken wand than by the insult made to her wizarding inheritance.

As she remained silent, Voldemort lifted his own wand.

"_Crucio_!" he exclaimed.

Snape noticed it wasn't the most violent of Cruciatus - the Dark Lord was going to increase the pain gradually as the curses went, just to taunt her.

"This was just a little warming up, so that you know what is awaiting you," Voldemort told Wilson as the two Death Eaters were helping her up. "I know you know the identity of a spy among my Death Eaters; one of your late friends let it slip. Who is it?" the Dark Lord demanded.

Wilson stayed quiet.

"_Crucio_!" Voldemort cast again, and this time the Cruciatus was more violent.

Wilson fell on her knees under the pain with a yell of distress. The two Death Eaters on the witch's side lifted her up harshly as soon as the curse was over while she was trying to catch her breath.

Voldemort examined her lengthily with a malicious smile. "Wilson…" he said as if he was trying to remember something. "I have heard of you before… of what happened to your family…"

Wilson tensed perceptibly and shot him a quick look before looking away again. Apparently, the Dark Lord had tickled a soft spot.

"Ah, I'm glad to see I managed to catch your attention…" Voldemort began to walk around her, slowly, like a bird of prey. "Your husband - Jonathan Wilson, right? - was an Auror, wasn't he?"

_Was_ an Auror? Snape wondered.

"I was told he met an unfortunate and untimely end five years ago," Voldemort continued, still circling around Wilson.

Well at least this explained why he hadn't heard from Jonathan Wilson for such a long time, Snape thought. One of the former Death Eaters Wilson used to investigate the past of had probably grown tired of his persistence and had eliminated him. Snape discreetly cast a look around, wondering which one it was.

Voldemort bent to talk in the witch's ear. "Such a pity your son had to be at home with him when it happened…"

Wilson took a deep breath, looking more and more anxious. Her foot was tapping the ground nervously.

An Auror and his son, allegedly killed by a former Death Eater… This should have made the front page… Snape wondered why he hadn't heard about it before today, until he realised that five years before, newspapers and other means of information were too busy arguing over the ominous reopening of the Chamber of Secrets.

"I also heard you arrived only a few minutes too late that night," Voldemort continued, and then whispered in her ear. "How frustrating…"

Wilson seemed to be at breaking point. Snape wondered what the Dark Lord was getting at, apart from weakening her psychologically before a possible mental intrusion. He held his wand tighter.

"Now the interesting part is that I heard this story from one of the protagonists," Voldemort went on.

Wilson brusquely looked up to him.

"I see I managed to arouse your curiosity at last," Voldemort said. "Yes, I mean the one who murdered your family…"

Wilson had more and more troubles to maintain her composure.

The Dark Lord bent to murmur in her ear. "He's here tonight…"

Wilson began to look around her uneasily, as if she was expecting to find a giant flashing arrow above one of the Death Eaters indicating "it's him".

Taunting her like that was really cruel, and many would have already broken into tears. Snape remembered that despite his year-long teasing - to a much lesser degree though - Wilson had barely ever lost her temper. This thought didn't give him as much faith in what was to come as he had hoped. He held his wand even tighter.

Voldemort went on, "I bet you would die to know who it was, since the Ministry of Magic failed to charge anyone…"

Snape noted all the irony of this declaration. Indeed she could die, literally, to know who it was.

"I think you're beginning to understand what I'm getting at," Voldemort carried on. "You know a name I want to hear, I know a name you want to hear… It's up to you…" he ended close to her ear.

Now Snape was really beginning to worry for his life - such an understatement. In principle, between discovering who assassinated one's family and saving the skin of someone one couldn't stand, the choice was quick. Wilson closed her eyes, looking torn, chewing on her lower lip - damn, she really seemed hesitant.

While he gripped his wand dearly, ready to disapparate as quickly as he could, Snape clutched to the hope Wilson was aware that her revelations wouldn't save her and, assuming the Dark Lord filled his part of the deal, she wouldn't be able to do much with this piece of information once dead.

When she opened her eyes again, Wilson seemed to be on the verge of tears. She took a deep breath, set her head firmly, and remained stubbornly silent.

"I see," Voldemort articulated with the tone of someone who had lost his patience and no longer wanted to play. "_Crucio_!"

The Dark Lord wasn't holding his power back any more, and Wilson let out a long shriek of pain as she convulsed on the ground. When the curse was lifted at last, the two Death Eaters next to her lifted her up roughly. Her cheeks were wet with a few tears.

"All right, we're done playing now," Voldemort stated as he raised his wand once more. "_Legilimens_!" he cried.

Snape was holding his wand so tightly his fingers were going numb. Maybe he shouldn't wait for the last moment. He had seen and heard enough; he should disapparate immediately and save his neck; there was nothing he could do.

After a few seconds, Voldemort stared angrily at Wilson. "_LEGILIMENS_!" he yelled once more.

Could Wilson be skilled in Occlumency? Snape wondered - this would be really welcome. In any case, Voldemort looked totally infuriated and Wilson was smiling a half satisfied, half demented smile.

"How long do you think you will manage to keep this information from me?" the Dark Lord exclaimed, enraged. "Do you really think I would have told you who had killed your husband?" he began to rant. "Let me tell you one thing: he deserved what happened to him. Serves that filthy little mudblood right, stooping lower than earth to stick his filthy nose in matters that were none of his business. And you, who soiled your blood, mingling with this pathetic excuse for a wizard to produce second rate offspring. You disgust me."

"You – " Wilson suddenly flew into a rage supported by a flood of particularly crude curses, and she would have jumped at Voldemort's throat if the two Death Eaters around her hadn't held her back by the shoulders.

The Dark Lord looked greatly offended by her sudden outburst and rudeness.

"_Crucio_!" Voldemort exclaimed angrily before she was done.

The Cruciatus hit the witch at full blast this time. She fell to the ground again, letting go an ear-splitting shout and quivering with pain.

"So you do speak, after all," the Dark Lord said as he maintained the curse. "Such a pity you speak only to say foolish things. Hopefully you will soon change your mind and make the right decision," he went on casually while she was still writhing with pain on the ground.

It was only after a long moment that he lifted the curse. Wilson was crying her eyes out - she had finally cracked up. Snape had a hard time deciding whether it was due to the Cruciatus or to her fit of anger - most certainly both.

The Death Eaters lifted her up once more, and this time they were supporting her totally. She was too spent to stand up on her own, and should they let her go she would fall back to the ground. Her head was dangling forward, her hair falling across her face.

"So, have you made up your mind?" Voldemort asked. "Will you tell me what I want to hear?"

Wilson nodded weakly, still sobbing. Snape clutched his wand. This was the night when his spying would come to an end, he thought, unsure whether it was a good thing. The Order would lose a precious source of information…

The Dark Lord walked closer to Wilson. She lifted her head just enough to speak face to face with him, and whispered a few syllables. And if Snape read on her lips correctly, she had just told the Dark Lord three short and simple words.

Go to hell.

Snape felt a sudden surge of respect for her. While it was a very foolish thing to do, few were those who dared provoke the Dark Lord in such a fashion under such circumstances. And as he read the pure hatred in her eyes, he realised her attitude had nothing to do with an attempt to maintain his cover as a spy.

If Voldemort's face boiling with rage was any indication, her behaviour was going to precipitate her death, but she hadn't done this to ensure she wouldn't reveal Snape's identity. He could be disposed of, she could probably care less. No, she was doing this for very personal reasons.

She had just shown a trait common to all those who had lost someone to the Dark Lord - or one of his followers for that matter: the will to give Voldemort anything but satisfaction. And in the process she had managed to piss off the Dark Lord badly.

Voldemort's nostrils were flaring with anger. Wilson was laughing quietly like a madwoman and crying at the same time. Voldemort took a few steps back from the witch.

"KILL HER!" he ordered furiously.

A few Death Eaters volunteered and stepped forward.

"_Avada_…" one of them began.

"Wait!" Voldemort interrupted, his hand raised.

Snape shivered. Had the Dark Lord changed his mind? Did he want a last attempt at Legilimency?

"That's exactly what you want, isn't it?" Voldemort told Wilson as he walked closer to her before shaking his head. "You don't deserve the killing curse… Oh no, we'll deal with you the good old way…" Then he hissed in her ear with an evil smirk, "the slow and painful way…"

Wilson's smile had disappeared, indicating she had indeed hoped for the killing curse. Snape closed his eyes with apprehension - he knew what the Dark Lord was referring to. The other Death Eaters did too, for he could hear some of them sniggering in anticipation.

After a nod from their Master, the two Death Eaters next to Wilson irreverently dropped her to the ground. As if she knew what was to come, she instinctively wrapped her arms around her head just before the Death Eaters began to kick her violently. Others left the circle to join them.

There were so many Death Eaters that only a handful could participate. In a way Snape was grateful he didn't have to join to maintain his cover. He had more than enough just watching the others letting themselves go and listening to Wilson's regular sharp yelps of pain.

After he heard the clear sound of a rib breaking, Snape averted his gaze - just watching was making him sick. A feeling of powerlessness overwhelmed him. Even if it hadn't been her prime motivation she had saved his cover and probably his life.

After a nasty kick to the head Wilson suddenly stopped yelling.

"That's enough," Voldemort interrupted.

All the Death Eaters returned to their places, and the Dark Lord walked closer to the unconscious witch lying next to the two dead members of the Order of the Phoenix and bent over her.

From where he was Snape could see she was still breathing faintly, but she probably wouldn't survive very long in her state. Her face was badly bruised and covered with blood, and Snape could only imagine the condition of the rest of her body.

While leering over Wilson's immobile body, the Dark Lord raised his foot over her chest and lowered it excruciatingly slowly. Wilson's eyes burst open as she took a sharp and painful intake of breath. If the broken rib hadn't already punctured a lung, it certainly had now.

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Voldemort declared spitefully as he withdrew his foot from Wilson's chest, while the witch lost consciousness again.

The Dark Lord turned to the circle of Death Eaters.

"May this serve as an example," he said coldly. "I will get you, whoever you are," he added to no one in particular, but Snape felt even sicker than he already was. "And what happened to your friend is nothing compared to what is waiting for you… In the meantime, don't forget to tell Dumbledore I managed to put my hands on the Experimental Charms nonetheless… You're all dismissed."

Snape cast a last look on the three members of the Order of the Phoenix while all the Death Eaters were disapparating one by one.

* * *

Coming Next: _In a Rush_


	18. In A Rush

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 18  
IN A RUSH**

All of Snape's Slytherin instincts were yelling at him to leave and save his own skin, but he just couldn't move. His eyes were rooted on the immobile bodies of the three dead or dying members of the Order of the Phoenix.

There was nothing he could have done to prevent this from happening without spoiling his cover. Dumbledore had stated it very clearly on several occasions: keeping his cover came before everything. But was it really worth it now that the Dark Lord suspected one of his followers to be a traitor? It would only be a matter of time before his identity was uncovered.

Snape remained still, deep in his considerations, until he realised he was standing alone. All the Death Eaters were gone, and Voldemort as well. Had anyone seen him lingering? he wondered anxiously. He cast several looks around but found no one.

His attention was drawn back to the bodies of the members of the Order by the sound of Wilson's ragged breathing. Maybe it wasn't too late, he suddenly realised. In a way, she had just saved his life - even if it hadn't been her prime concern - and the least he could do was try to return the favour. Especially since should he fail to repay this debt, it would be transferred to the witch's closest living relative, namely Lupin - and he would do anything to avoid owing a life debt to _him_.

Did he hate life debts… As if one wasn't enough…

"Wilson," he called as he knelt next to the witch, but she was still unconscious. "Wilson!" he insisted. He hesitated for a second. "Endora. Endora!"

Her eyes eventually opened slowly. She blinked a couple of times when blood blurred her vision. It took her a couple more seconds to focus on him, and when she did she suddenly started back with a glint of panic in her eyes.

What was she doing? he wondered as she recoiled away from him the best she could considering her state. It was really not the moment for a display of such a childish behaviour and to forget they were on the same –

His mask. His Death Eater mask, he was still wearing it, he realised. He removed it quickly. He had never imagined she would ever look relieved to see him.

"It's all right, they're all gone," he told her as she cast an anxious look around. "I can't perform any Healing Charm," he then confessed on an informative tone. "I would lend you my wand, but I doubt you're in any condition to cast any spell."

Wilson nodded slowly. She had obvious troubles breathing and keeping her attention focused. He had to take her to a Medi-wizard immediately. As he lifted his wand to conjure a stretcher, she grabbed his wrist with a strength he wouldn't have expected, digging her nails into his skin.

"Severus," she whispered painfully. "Kill me," she pleaded as she cast him an insistent look.

Snape stared at her. She was very aware of the gravity of her wounds and knew she was condemned if not healed in a short delay. And since none of them could do the healing… she was asking him to shorten her suffering and dispense what she considered as an inevitable outcome.

She probably knew using the Killing curse wouldn't be a first for him - it was common knowledge to her that he had been a Death Eater. But she couldn't know that since the last time he used it he had decided to never resort to it again, whatever the circumstances.

"No," he replied firmly, hoping he wouldn't regret not granting her what could likely be her last wish.

"Please," she implored, her eyes filling with tears as he freed his hand and conjured a stretcher. "I don't want to die like this… Not like this…" Her tears were mingling with the blood on her face.

She kept mumbling some incomprehensible syllables - among which Snape was sure he recognised a couple of curses. As he was about to levitate her to the stretcher, he suddenly took a step back when Wilson rolled to her side and started to cough uncontrollably. There was now a large stain of blood on the light layer of snow just where his boots had been a second before.

"Please…" she asked again as her coughs turned into sobs, while he levitated her to the stretcher at last.

St Mungo was totally out of the question. The Dark Lord would be able all too easily to know she had been brought there, and one could get in way too effortlessly to make it a safe place - the example of Bode was telling.

"I'll take you to Madam Pomfrey," he stated as he levitated the stretcher itself.

Hogwarts was the only place he could think of where it would be safe to bring her. A place where she would be able to hide from the Dark Lord's knowledge while she healed.

She was caught by a new fit of coughs. It was the stretcher that was now stained with blood. Snape grabbed one of its corners and disapparated. When he apparated just outside Hogwarts grounds she was still coughing. He hurried towards the castle, urging the stretcher in front of him.

When Wilson eventually stopped coughing, she seemed to have trouble catching her breath. With each attempt she frowned and winced in pain more and more. The entrance to the castle had never seemed so far to Snape. They were only halfway down the grounds when Wilson passed out, one of her arms falling limply over the edge of the stretcher.

Without interrupting their progression, he pushed her arm back on the stretcher and lightly tapped her cheek with the back of his fingers. She had to stay awake the longest possible to have a chance. There was only one thing that could work when one was between consciousness and coma: the conditioned reflexes of the unconscious.

"Miss Lupin, the ingredients of a Shrinking Potion?" he demanded with his best authoritative teacher tone.

Wilson's eyes fluttered open. She looked disoriented for a second but eventually spoke slowly.

"A rat's liver…" she whispered with difficulty.

As they kept advancing towards the castle she sporadically mentioned the rest of the list of ingredients. Each of her answers took longer than the previous one.

"A caterpillar…" Wilson muttered as Snape pushed the stretcher past the gates.

Her breathing was now wheezing and her eyes were closing slowly again.

"Miss Lupin! I'm waiting!" he urged commandingly as he began to climb the stairs, the levitating stretcher still ahead of him.

She half opened her eyelids.

"A dry fig…" she continued.

Snape hurried up the stairs. Why did the Hospital Wing have to be located at the very top of the castle? The only higher place was the astronomy tower. He gave a quick look at Wilson: she was totally livid and a wince of pain was engraved on her face. As he was only a few steps away from the next level, the stairs began to move.

No no no, not now, Snape cursed inwardly and hoped it wouldn't lead them too far from their original course.

"Daisy roots…" Wilson's voice was barely audible.

When the stairs stopped, Snape realised he would now have to make a detour to take her to the Hospital Wing. He hurried all the more.

Hogwarts corridors were extremely silent, unusually silent even. At any time of the day or the night, during the school year and the holidays alike, the castle was always full of strange noises, odd creaks, portraits characters whispering, ghosts passing by… But this night, all he could hear was the noise Peeves made in the distance as he probably accomplished some mischief of his, and Wilson's latest fit of coughs.

This fit was particularly violent compared to the others. Only a couple more levels, Snape thought, they were almost there… He was actually relieved when Wilson stopped her dreadful coughing at last. Her wheezing breathing was much more endurable.

Wait a second. There was no more wheezing breathing. Keeping advancing, Snape gave a quick look at Wilson. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was half open, a trail of blood dripping from the corner of her lips and down her chin.

She hadn't stopped coughing, Snape realised. She had stopped _breathing_. He laid two fingers on her neck and only found a very weak pulse. He hurried even more.

It took him one more minute to reach the Hospital Wing at last but it felt like hours. He slammed the door open carelessly.

"Madam Pomfrey!" he called while transferring Wilson on one of the beds. "MADAM POMFREY!"

The Medi-witch came in through a side door, wearing a dressing gown.

"Severus, what is – " Her eyes widened with horror when her gaze fell on Wilson. "By Merlin's beard…" she whispered while taking her wand out and hurrying to the bedside.

"A broken rib – " Snape began to explain but Pomfrey pushed him away.

"Let me work now, Severus," she said pressingly.

Snape nodded and took a few steps back. Dumbledore burst in a couple of seconds later. The Headmaster exchanged a look with Snape before turning worried eyes to Wilson. Dumbledore remained still for a short moment before taking Snape to the side.

"The members of the Order that managed to escape the Ministry of Magic came to warn me as soon as they returned," the old wizard said. "It was a trap, wasn't it?"

Snape nodded. "The Dark Lord suspected the existence of a traitor, and he made all this up to make it sure. But he also has the Experimental Charms now."

"That's what I assumed," Dumbledore replied. "I came to warn you in turn as soon as I learned about it but you were already gone to the meeting." He paused and cast another look towards Wilson. Madam Pomfrey was still working on her. "What about the other two that were captured?" he asked at last.

"They're dead," Snape replied.

Dumbledore nodded sadly, a frown on his forehead. He was still looking towards Wilson. "And… Did she - "

"My cover is safe," Snape interrupted on an almost reproachful tone.

Dumbledore seemed to notice his susceptibility. He turned back to Snape and examined him with his scrutinizing eyes.

"Severus – " Dumbledore began on a soothing tone.

"I know," Snape interrupted again, rather harshly.

Oh yes, he knew all too well of Dumbledore's priorities. But tonight more than ever he was tired beyond any measure of all this spying business. If only he could bring his project to a conclusion and get rid of the Dark Mark at last once and for all… He would be rid of all these responsibilities with it.

Snape closed his eyes and sighed with tiredness. When he opened his eyes again, Dumbledore was observing him with concern.

"Severus, would you care to stay here and inform me when there is any evolution?" the old wizard asked. "I'm going to warn all the persons that should be informed."

Snape nodded briskly and Dumbledore left the Hospital Wing. Snape looked towards Wilson and Madam Pomfrey. The Medi-witch was still very busy, waving her wand restlessly.

Snape paced during a few seconds. Then he tried to focus his attention on a set of potions on a shelf. It wasn't much use, until he decided to make a mental inventory, adding each kind of potion to his list as he counted them, starting all over when he forgot a number. It was something he often did during his sleepless nights - going into his storeroom and take stock.

He had listed sixty seven potions of twelve different kinds when Madam Pomfrey called him and waved him to come. When he reached the bed, Snape noticed Wilson's face was still covered with blood and extremely pale. She didn't look healed at all.

"Severus," Madam Pomfrey began, "could you please prepare some strong Pain Relieving Potion? I'm afraid mine isn't powerful enough and she will be in great need of it when she wakes up."

Snape nodded mechanically. When. _When_ she wakes up, not _if_. It was only then that Snape noticed the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She was quietly sleeping.

"I only healed the more important wounds, I fear a Brangane Syndrome," Madam Pomfrey explained.

Snape nodded again, knowingly this time. Someone could suffer from a Brangane Syndrome if subjected to too much magical healing in too short a time. The syndrome itself resulted in various permanent impairments. The original Mister Brangane had claimed that a third arm growing in his back wasn't an impairment, on the contrary, until said third arm suddenly decided to rebel and tried to strangle him.

"I will heal the minor wounds in a week, so she can be fit before the end of the holidays," Madam Pomfrey concluded.

Snape nodded one last time. "I'll go warn Dumbledore and prepare the Pain Relieving Potion, now."

As he left the Hospital Wing, Snape almost collided with Lupin who was rushing in.

"Severus?" Lupin said out of breath, as if he had just run up the stairs. "I came as soon as Dumbledore told me. How is she doing?" he asked with concern.

"She'll manage," Snape replied callously as he walked past the werewolf and down the stairs.

* * *

Coming Next: _Christmas Holidays_


	19. Christmas Holidays

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 19  
CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS**

During the next days, Snape worked on the batch of Pain Relieving Potion Madam Pomfrey had asked him to prepare. To make it powerful, he had to let it brew over several days. Three days later, when it was ready at last, Snape took a sadistic pleasure in adding cardamom - he was sure Wilson would appreciate the personal touch.

When he carried it to the Hospital Wing later that day, Wilson was still lying unconscious in one of the beds, Lupin seating at her side. Lupin looked extremely tired, even more than usually. For a second, Snape wondered if the full moon was somewhat imminent, and he frantically racked his brain to remember when the last one had taken place. Two weeks before, he recalled with relief.

As Snape deposited the cauldron of potion in a safe corner, he noticed that Lupin's bags under his eyes were accentuated, and that he looked as if he hadn't shaven for days. Probably stayed day and night at his sister's bedside… Well, if he really didn't have anything more important to do… Like attending to a job, for example, Snape thought spitefully.

While he checked the potion, he heard soft noises coming from where both of them were. Snape turned his head slightly to observe them from the corner of his eyes.

Wilson was moving slightly in her bed. Lupin had straightened on his chair and was looking at the witch expectantly. When she remained still again, Lupin let go a sigh of disappointment as his shoulders fell.

Snape returned his attention to his potion and began to fill empty flasks with it.

"Endora?" he heard Lupin say softly.

Snape only gave a quick look back, just enough to see that Wilson was opening her eyes slowly. He put a second flask on the shelf in front of him and labelled it.

"Endora?" Lupin said again.

"Who are you?" Wilson asked in a whisper.

Snape instantly turned back. Wilson was frowning at her brother while Lupin's face had fallen and had paled noticeably. He was even staring at her with horror.

"Hem… Madam Pomfrey?" Lupin called hesitantly.

To Snape's astonishment, Wilson smiled.

"No, Remus, leave Madam Pomfrey at peace, I'm sure she has more important things to do than taking care of me. I'm fine," she assured.

Lupin briefly paled even more, until he realised she had made fun of him. He looked slightly crossed, especially after his sister started laughing. She soon stopped however: her smile turned into a wince and she yelped with pain.

"Serves you right," Lupin scolded. "Do you really think it was funny?"

"No, but the face you made was priceless," she replied with a chuckle punctuated by a hushed 'ow'. "And bear with me, I've been out for… How long have I been out?"

"Three days," her brother informed her.

Wilson seemed to be calculating something for a second.

"Christmas Eve is tomorrow," Lupin clarified, "which means that yes, your tickets for the Appleby Arrows Vs Caerphilly Catapults game are still valid, but no, you're not going, and no, I won't argue with you on this."

Wilson pouted slightly. "By the way, you look terrible," she said.

"If you think _I_ look terrible, wait until I hand you a mirror," Lupin retorted.

"Oh. That bad?" she asked with a half smile.

Snape rolled his eyes in disgust as they hugged each other tightly, and left the Hospital Wing with his empty cauldron. Now that this task was out of the way, he would be able to spend all his time working on his project at last.

"Severus!" Lupin called behind him just as he set his feet on the stairs down.

Snape sighed and turned round. "What?" he demanded coldly.

"She'd like to talk to you," Lupin explained.

"Then kindly inform her that I have more important things to do," Snape replied sternly as he went down a few more stairs.

"It will only take a second," Lupin insisted.

As Snape was about to decline the request in a way the werewolf could understand - that is, using words with no more than two syllables - the stairs began to move. So convenient for once. He turned to Lupin with a smirk and shrugged with feigned powerlessness as the stairs were taking him to another part of the castle.

By the time Snape went to the Great Hall the next day for dinner, he had completely forgotten it was Christmas Eve. He briefly considered turning back when he saw the outrageously festive decorations, but decided to stay nonetheless. Once a decade couldn't hurt.

It seemed it was Hooch who had decorated the tree this year - it was the only way to explain the presence of tiny flying broomsticks and snitches hanging from its branches. Not to mention the bludgers roaming dangerously around it, forcing the students passing by to dodge to the ground.

Someone tapped on his shoulder insistently. When he turned to see who had had the nerve to do such a thing, he discovered Ursaglow, flashing him a large idiotic grin. With the events of the last days, Snape had forgotten such a buffoon even existed. He glared at him but the young wizard's grin never faltered.

"Good evening, Sev- Professor Snape," Ursaglow corrected when Snape cocked an eyebrow. "I haven't seen you since the beginning of the holidays! I came to your office a couple of times, but it was always locked. I knocked, but no one ever answered."

Oh. So it had been _him_, Snape realised. He had been forced to put a Silencing Charm on his door when the knocks had become too insistent. Snape didn't bother to answer and moved away, only to discover Ursaglow was following him.

Snape was saved the trouble of cursing him by the entrance of both Wilson and Lupin. Wilson's face was still bruised, and she was using a walking cane - one that looked suspiciously like the one McGonagall had briefly used a couple of years before. As for Lupin, he was walking next to his sister, observing her from the corner of his eyes, looking more anxious at each of her steps. She suddenly came to a stop.

"Remus, I assure you I _can_ walk," she claimed rather loudly.

Ursaglow headed toward them as soon as they entered. "Endora! Oh my, what happened to you?" he queried with concern.

"Er… Ski accident," Wilson invented quickly.

Lupin cast her a quick questioning look and she gave an almost imperceptible shrug.

"Ah, yes," Ursaglow nodded. "Those Muggle inventions are always so dangerous."

Snape left them to their fascinating conversation and decided to find himself a safe place on the traditionally unique table of the Great Hall. He found one between McGonagall and Hooch, which ensured him that no undesired person would sit next to him.

"Severus, it's a pleasure to see you decided to bless us with your presence for Christmas dinner, for once," McGonagall teased.

"Don't expect it to ever happen again," Snape warned.

Lupin, Wilson and Ursaglow finally came to find seats at the table just as students began to enter the Great Hall.

"Mizar, why don't you seat with us?" Lupin invited. "I'd love to have a chat with you!"

Wilson stared at her brother with round eyes but didn't comment. However, Snape was sure he saw her slightly shake her head and mouth a silent 'no' to Lupin. Snape was glad to see he wasn't the only one to despise the company of the DADA teacher.

"Sure," Ursaglow accepted as he sat next to Lupin, which placed him, to Snape's greatest horror, just in front of him.

Ursaglow cast him another idiotic grin. He had never noticed this Lockhart trait to Ursaglow, Snape realised. Maybe the young wizard was trying to copy his idol…

"Hey, Harry, Ron, Hermione!" Lupin called as he waved at the teenagers.

Oh great, the infernal trio now. He should really have left when he still could, Snape thought.

"Professor Lupin? What are you doing here?" Potter asked, obviously happy to see him.

"I've been allowed to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays to take care of my little sister!" he replied joyfully as he wrapped an arm around Wilson's shoulders.

"Remus!" she said reproachfully.

"You mean, Professor Wilson is your sister?" Weasley asked.

Granger rolled her eyes. "You two should really learn to be more observant," she scolded. "What happened to you, Professor, by the way?" she asked Wilson.

"She had a ski accident!" Ursaglow replied for her above Lupin's head.

Potter and Granger exchanged a disbelieving look, while Weasley looked horrified.

"A ski accident? I didn't know it was that dangerous!" the redhead exclaimed. "I should warn dad, he said he wanted to try it next winter."

"Oh, don't worry for him. Endora has always been a bit clumsy at sports, anyway," Lupin assured while Wilson glared at him.

"Endora? Isn't that the name of an evil witch in an old television show?" Granger wondered.

Wilson looked abashed. "She was evil?" she asked as she turned to her brother.

Lupin shrugged. "Our father - a Muggle," he clarified for the children, "only said it was the name of a witch in a show he liked a lot."

Snape rolled his eyes. Oh, this was such a fascinating piece of information.

The dinner carried on rather uneventfully after Dumbledore made a traditional speech that, as always, didn't make much sense to the untrained ear. Snape was, however, glad to see Lupin seemed to regret his invitation and looked more and more bored as Ursaglow talked on and on. The werewolf nodded politely every now and then, looking hopefully towards his sister on his other side. But Wilson was busy talking with Vector - those two were unstoppable when discussing Arithmancy, as Snape had noticed along the year.

Lupin managed to find a way out by asking his sister if she was ok, if she needed him to help her with any of the dishes. Wilson sarcastically asked him to cut her meat as well while he was at it - and took her plate away from him as he made to grab it - before returning to her discussion with Vector.

Lupin was doomed to listen to Ursaglow again - which for some reason filled Snape with delight - until he eventually found another opportunity to interrupt his one-sided 'conversation' with him - when the young wizard paused to breathe.

"Endora," he called, and his sister turned to him. "Since you're not going to that Quidditch match, maybe I could have your tickets," he suggested with an innocent smile.

"Yeah, right," she sniggered. "Don't worry about that, I have plenty of friends who would die to get these tickets."

"But you will give them to me because I'm your favourite brother," Lupin affirmed, his smile broadening.

"Ok, but I have two tickets," Wilson countered. "So tell me, what friend would you go with exactly?" Her face fell at the same time Lupin's did when she realised what she had just said.

"I can go with you if you want!" Ursaglow - who had miraculously noticed no one was listening to him - offered.

"Remus," Wilson murmured apologetically, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean – "

"It's ok," he interrupted.

Lupin spent the rest of the meal staring gloomily at his plate while Ursaglow started explaining just how much he enjoyed Quidditch. At some point, Snape felt the werewolf's eyes on him. He held Lupin's gaze for a few seconds, unable to read his eyes, until Lupin stared back at his plate, more sullenly than ever.

Snape was the first to leave the Great Hall. He had planned an important and extremely long experiment for the next day, and he wanted to get it started in the first hours of the day.

It actually took him longer than he had expected. After seven hours working on it non-stop, exhaustion was slowly overwhelming him, but he didn't want to pause. He was almost done - he just had to stir some hundred times - and he just knew he was on to something.

Seventeen, eighteen, he was counting when someone knocked on the door. When he looked up, Snape realised that in his hurry to start his experiment he had neither closed nor locked the door to his lab. It wasn't Ursaglow, like Snape had initially feared, but Wilson, standing on the doorstep and looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Do you have a minute?" she asked almost shyly.

"No," he replied truthfully. Twenty four, twenty five…

Wilson didn't move. "I wanted to thank you," she eventually said.

"Is this another attempt to lay your hands on a certain book of mine?" Snape asked suspiciously. Thirty eight…

"No, I truly wanted to thank you for what you did the other day," Wilson insisted.

"Then you should have saved yourself the bother of coming down here to do such a useless thing," Snape spat back. Forty five, forty six…

The witch sighed, looking as though she was refraining herself from losing her temper. "You're not making this any easier for me."

"Should I?" Snape teased with an eyebrow raised. He continued before she could protest. "Look. You saved me, I saved you. We're even. And by the way, don't let what happened to you make you feel special. Torture is a common practice among Death Eaters."

Snape paused to make sure he was still up to date with his count. Fifty nine, sixty, sixty one… When he looked back up to Wilson, he was surprised by her reaction. He had expected her to be outraged by his insinuations, yes, but certainly not to stare into space and look as if she had just realised something.

Somehow it prevented Snape from carrying on with his accusations. Instead, he concentrated on his potion again. Sixty seven, sixty eight…

"Maybe we could bury the hatchet, now," Wilson suggested hesitantly.

Snape looked up at her with irritation. "I'm busy and don't have the spare time to bury anything. But if you really want something done, please send me an owl so we can arrange an appointment," he replied sarcastically. "Good bye."

Eighty one, eighty two…

"Good bye. And merry Christmas," Wilson told him grimly as she left his lab at last.

Snape snorted. What did she expect, exactly? he wondered. He also marvelled at the fact that it was Christmas indeed, and that he still hadn't heard from his mother… Not that he missed her yearly reproachful owl the least bit…

Eighty nine… No, wait, ninety… Or eighty nine… No, definitely ninety. Or was it ninety one?

Oh damn. Seven long hours of hard work spoiled in one second. Snape glared at his cauldron reproachfully.

"_Evanesco_," he murmured bitterly with a wave of his wand.

* * *

Coming Next: _Every Word_


	20. Every Word

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 20  
EVERY WORD**

"What do you mean, I am to remain at Hogwarts under all circumstances?" Wilson contested, obviously enraged.

It was the last day of Christmas holidays, and Wilson was now fully healed - even though she still looked quite tired. Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin and Wilson were all in the Headmaster's office for a last Order meeting before the beginning of the new semester.

Dumbledore sat back in his armchair behind his desk with a sigh. "Endora, you have to be understanding."

"I believe I've been understanding enough until now," Wilson argued. "I'll go mad if I spend the rest of my days stuck here."

"Perhaps you'd rather get killed by one of the Dark Lord's minions, then?" Snape suggested sarcastically.

"Severus is right, Endora," Lupin backed him up. "Voldemort will soon learn you're still alive one way or the other, and the only way to keep you safe is for you to remain here."

Wilson stopped pacing and sat back in her chair. "Not even Hogsmeade?" she asked hopefully.

"You know it's impossible," McGonagall countered. "Hogwarts is the safest place to stay, and it will allow you to keep teaching."

Wilson sighed. "Well, I suppose it's all right as long as I can still floo my friends." Her face fell when her eyes met the Headmaster's. "I can still use the floo network, right?"

Dumbledore slightly shook his head. "I'm afraid the floo network is an open door on the outside. It's too dangerous."

Wilson looked too discontented to comment.

"It's only temporary, Endora," Dumbledore observed, "until Voldemort is vanquished."

"And that is going to happen _so_ soon…" Wilson remarked bitterly.

"There are people who never leave Hogwarts and who fare rather well, you know," Dumbledore told her.

"Who?" she asked doubtfully.

"Sybill Trelawney."

Snape stifled a snort. Oh yes, that was definitely a great example to give her.

"Can't you give me another example?" Wilson pleaded.

"Endora, I'm afraid you don't have much choice," Dumbledore continued. "You will have to remain at Hogwarts. We can't afford to endanger your life every time you leave the school grounds."

Wilson eventually nodded reluctantly. "All right."

"Good. The matter is settled then," Dumbledore concluded. "Good night, everyone."

They soon all left the Headmaster's office. Snape had started back when he saw Ursaglow standing in the hallway. He wasn't waiting for him, was he? Snape wondered as his hand flew to his wand pocket.

No, he wasn't, Snape realised with relief. The young wizard was waiting for Wilson, a single flower in his hand.

"It's to wish you a speedy recovery," Ursaglow stated as he handed the flower to her.

"Oh. Thank you, it's a… er… very kind attention," she said uneasily while taking the flower, "even if I already recovered."

Next to her, Lupin was hardly refraining from laughter, probably - at least in part - because the flower was an orchid. Symbol of mature charm and more often than not used in ageing potions, as the werewolf and his sister probably knew just like Snape did - it was part of the Herbology and Potions curriculum, after all. Granted, Wilson was almost ten years older than Ursaglow, but still… A very delicate attention indeed…

Snape smirked as he walked past them - if Wilson had become the object of Ursaglow's affection she was almost worth pitying.

While heading back towards the dungeons, Snape saw students entering the castle, back from their holidays. He cast them a scornful look - holidays were never long enough.

The usual routine quickly settled again. Dispensing Potions lessons, taking House points and handing detentions whenever required - or not - correcting essays - why did he give them so much homework exactly? - and dedicating the little spare time he had left to work on his personal project.

Before he realised it, three weeks had flown by and January was coming to an end. Ursaglow had become oddly discreet and showed up only once a week at Snape's door - which was still too much but a definite improvement. The young wizard was probably too busy undertaking what Snape suspected to be attempts at wooing Wilson to pay him as many visits as before.

Snape had witnessed one of Ursaglow's attempts once and had found much entertainment in watching a very embarrassed Wilson sending him packing as politely as she could.

One evening in late January Snape found himself in his office and at his desk, glaring at an enormous looking pile of essays. It was as if every time he looked at it, it had grown in height instead of decreasing. He wondered if someone could have charmed the pieces of parchment to multiply on their own.

He looked away for a second and when he looked back at the pile of essays, it was still just as high. Maybe he could pretend just this once that his pet dragon had burned the essays…

Resigned, he picked up his quill and undertook for the umpteenth time this year the correction of a set of essays with the conviction it was his punishment for eternity for all his sins.

Someone knocked at the door.

And if he kept being interrupted there was no way he could be done with this any time soon, he thought angrily.

"Come in," Snape said reluctantly, and saw Wilson opening the door and walking in. "What do you want?" he asked rudely as he put his quill in the inkpot.

She walked to his desk sheepishly. "I need a favour," Wilson eventually said with embarrassment.

"A favour?" Snape repeated as he leant back in his armchair. "What kind of favour?"

She was hesitant. "I need some strong sleeping potion."

Snape stared at her for a couple of seconds before picking up his quill again. "I am no Medi-wizard," he said as he bent over the essay. "Go to the Hospital Wing and see Madam Pomfrey."

"I already did," Wilson objected. "Madam Pomfrey is the one who sent me here to ask for a stronger potion."

Snape briefly looked up. She _did_ look very tired indeed. He put his quill back in the inkpot again and crossed his fingers, a growing smirk on his lips. So she was asking him a favour? Was he going to savour this moment…

"So, what seems to be the problem?" he enquired. "Do you hate being stuck here so much that it gives you nightmares?" he sniggered.

"No," she retorted sharply. "Now about this potion – "

"Or is it because of Ursaglow's recent interest in you?" he went on as he stood up and walked toward a storing shelf. "One would lose sleep at much less than that."

Snape could almost feel Wilson glaring at his back.

"I honestly don't give a damn about him," she snapped while he came back, a flask in his hand.

He paused in front of her and Wilson stared at his hand. He began to hand the flask to her, but as she made to take it he withdrew his arm.

"Oh, no, my apologies…" he continued. "It must be some kind of trauma due to what happened to you several weeks ago," he said in a silky voice.

Wilson briefly looked up to him as she tensed perceptibly before staring at the flask in his hand again. He pretended to give it to her but took it back at the last moment once more. He wasn't going to give it up without having some fun first.

"I thought I warned you not to feel too special about it."

She flinched at his words, but she remained silent, and her eyes never left the potion.

"But no, you had to make yourself the centre of the world…"

"I would hate to have to hex you to get this potion," she spoke at last between gritted teeth.

"Actually I think you would enjoy it very much." He paused for a second, savouring the sight of Wilson looking uneasy. "It must be unbearable for you not to be able to contact you friends so they can pity you…"

Wilson clenched her fists.

"Always in need of support and approbation from the others," Snape went on. "I can't really blame you for that; it runs in the family after all."

Wilson looked up at him with hatred. She was breathing heavily, as if trying to control her emotions.

"But you're obviously unable to see in perspective what you imagine to be the drama of your life - there should be nothing to fuss about."

The witch now looked downright furious and boiling with anger.

"How dare you judge me," she hissed. "You least of all should be allowed to judge anyone," she continued more adamantly, losing her temper by the second. "But I can't really blame you for this, after all you're no more than an insensitive and self-centred git whose only social activity is to belittle the people around him and who wallows in both unhealthy solitude and negative environment!" She snatched the potion from him. "Thank you!" she almost yelled.

Snape was taken aback for a second while Wilson stormed out of his office. She had just insulted him, hadn't she?

Boiling with rage, he strode towards his door. He prepared to snarl something very nasty at her as she probably climbed up the stairs, but instead he found her standing still, further down the dungeons corridor, her back to him.

He opened his mouth to shout something extremely unpleasant, but didn't as he saw her do a gesture he could easily identify even from behind: she first sniffed and then wiped each of her eyes with her free hand.

She was crying, he realised. Maybe he had gone a bit too far this time.

It wasn't so much the fact that she was crying that prevented him from provoking her again, but more the fact that he didn't consider her as someone weak who cracked up or cried easily. It had taken even the Dark Lord great efforts to manage this feat.

Just as Snape considered walking back in his office, he saw Ursaglow coming down the stairs.

"Endora!" the young wizard called. "Did you come here to see Professor Snape too?"

Damn, this man really was a hopeless case.

"Are you all right?" Ursaglow asked the witch.

"I'm fine," she answered in a weak voice. Before Ursaglow could add anything she went on. "I'd like to be left alone, Mizar. Please."

The DADA teacher hesitated for a second before answering, "All right."

Snape would have to remember to ask her how she managed to do that - as soon as she didn't want him dead any longer.

Ursaglow soon turned away from Wilson and froze, a look of curiosity on his face, when he saw Snape on the doorstep. Snape immediately stepped back and closed the door.

Thankfully, Ursaglow didn't pay him a visit like he had intended, so Snape was able to advance his essay correction significantly. But he hadn't expected someone else would pay him a visit.

His door was suddenly thrust open an hour later. Lupin stormed in and planted himself in front of him, looking downright furious.

"What did you tell her?" the werewolf demanded angrily.

"And a good day to you too, Lupin," Snape replied ironically. "By the way, what are you doing at Hogwarts? I thought you had been allowed to stay for the holidays only; weren't you able to find the way out?"

"What did you tell her?" Lupin asked again, articulating each word slowly.

Snape sighed with irritation. "What did I tell to whom?" he enquired even though he suspected the answer.

"To Endora."

He smirked. "Oh, so she went to whine to her big brother because evil Professor Snape told her nasty things?"

"No she didn't," Lupin retorted coldly. "Actually Dumbledore asked me to come, for he was worried about her health. Apparently she has barely managed to sleep since the end of Christmas break."

Since Christmas break? Snape wondered. It was quite a while…

"When she explained to me what was wrong," Lupin went on, "she mentioned in passing that it originally came from something you said several weeks ago."

Several weeks ago… So it wasn't because of something he had said today? Snape was at a total loss. He remained silent as Lupin continued his rant.

"Listen, I don't know what you told her exactly, but I would advise you to stop playing with her nerves," the werewolf warned. "The murder of her family is enough of a painful memory without you suggesting they might have been tortured." He paused. "Make another devious comment about that and I'll do my best to come visit you during the next full moon."

"Ah, down to threats… So Gryffindor of you, Remus," Snape teased.

Lupin glared at him one last time and left, while Snape was still wondering what he had told his sister exactly. He surely hadn't said anything about her family. Or perhaps…

He had told her torture was a common practice among Death Eaters. And her family had been killed by a Death Eater… This was what had been tormenting her all these weeks, he concluded.

When he had said that, he hadn't expected her to make a connection with the loss of her family… Honestly, getting all frantic just because of one innocent comment - well, innocent as far as his comments went. He had told her much worse than that dozens of times, and she hadn't reacted half that badly…

No matter how much he tried to put the blame on her, he was feeling… yes, guilty. A rare feat; she could be proud of herself, he thought almost angrily.

His fingers drummed nervously on his desk, until his eyes surreptitiously fell on his bookshelf as if on purpose. He made his decision in one second - if he gave it more thought he knew he would change his mind.

The next morning, Snape entered the teachers lounge, carrying the book '_Combining Different Kinds of Magic: Great Possibilities but Terrible Dangers_' under his arm, and put it down noisily on the table Wilson was sitting at, discussing with Professor Vector.

"I want it back in one week at the very latest," he stated coldly.

Wilson stared alternately at him and the book with puzzlement. Snape turned on his heels and left with no further explanation.

* * *

Coming Next: _A New Surprise_


	21. A New Surprise

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 21  
A NEW SURPRISE**

Snape was once again attending a Death Eater meeting. The Dark Lord seemed to be in a playful mood that night - as playful as a Dark Lord could be. In other words: dangerously playful.

"There will be another attack on Hogwarts," Voldemort stated with a sadistic smile, "very soon." He paused and looked around at his Death Eaters and smirked. "Of course, Dumbledore's little spy will not miss informing the old fool of my plans… so know only this: you will not be able to prevent this one… Dismissed."

Snape apparated back outside Hogwarts's grounds. Now that the Dark Lord knew there was a spy among his followers, he was more distrustful than usual and no longer confided in them. Instead, he teased his Death Eaters, knowing it would annoy one to no end.

Snape immediately headed for Dumbledore's office. Even if it was the middle of the night, this was of major importance. The Headmaster was very often up late at night, anyway.

"Ah, Severus." Dumbledore didn't look surprised to see him. "Come on, have a seat. Just give me a moment to ask Minerva and Endora to join us."

Half an hour later, McGonagall and Wilson were there. McGonagall was waiting anxiously for an explanation, while Wilson looked ready to fall asleep if only she dared to blink.

"Severus?" Dumbledore insisted.

"The Dark Lord is planning another attack on Hogwarts," he said.

"When?" McGonagall queried.

"Very soon," Snape replied.

"What kind of attack?" the Headmaster asked.

"Unfortunately he didn't tell us anything about it. He knows there's a spy," Snape retorted.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. "It can't be giants again. I'm still in negotiations with them, but they won't obey him any longer."

"Dementors, maybe?" McGonagall suggested.

Snape shivered. An army of Dementors… Such a delightful prospect.

"It could be," Dumbledore replied, "but I fear it might be something we don't even suspect."

"What do you mean?" McGonagall asked.

"There are many ways an attack can be led without having to fight," Snape replied for the Headmaster.

"Absolutely," Dumbledore nodded, "and this, we cannot prevent."

Snape instantly remembered the Dark Lord's words. You will not be able to prevent this one… What could it be, exactly? What had this evil little brain of his stirred up again?

"So all we can do is wait and see, then?" McGonagall sighed.

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore replied, "but we must remain alert. Endora?"

The Charms teacher straightened suddenly and her half closed eyes were now slightly more open - just enough to make them half open, Snape noted sarcastically. "Hmm?" she muttered softly.

"Have you reinforced the protections around the school after the giants' attack?" the Headmaster asked.

"Oh. Sure," Wilson replied groggily.

"Good. One last thing," Dumbledore continued. "Severus, I want you to teach Occlumency to Harry again."

Snape glared at the old wizard. "You're not serious?"

"Oh, be assured that I am very serious, Severus," Dumbledore confirmed. "The boy is still having visions and it must stop. This is making him too vulnerable and we cannot afford that."

"I doubt it will work any better now than it did two years ago," Snape countered.

"It has to," Dumbledore insisted. "Harry has been working on his own, but he needs a skilled teacher."

"Then why not ask Professor Wilson here to teach him?" he suggested, hopeful to discharge this burden on someone else.

Wilson instantly straightened. "What?"

"She's a skilled Occlumens too," he continued.

"I'm not an Occlumens!" the witch contested.

"Oh, please, you prevented the Dark Lord from reading your mind that night," Snape argued.

"Well, this wasn't really Occlumency but rather – "

"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted, "I want _you_ to teach Harry. You know my reasons."

Snape cast a killing look at the Headmaster. Oh yes, he did. Dumbledore wanted Harry to be trained by someone he wasn't comfortable with or even on friendly terms with, so the boy could practise under conditions as close as possible to those he would have to face against the Dark Lord.

"All right," Snape conceded reluctantly.

Snape was fuming when he walked back to his rooms. First the Death Eater meeting and the unknown attack menacing them, then having to teach Occlumency to Potter again… This night couldn't get any worse. Or so he thought.

As he was about to reach the safety of his rooms, Snape bumped into Ursaglow, obviously on a night watch.

"Hey, Professor Snape!" the young wizard exclaimed joyfully. "I didn't expect to meet anyone so late at night."

Snape walked just past him without acknowledging his presence.

"Are you on a night watch too?" Ursaglow asked as he caught up with Snape. "It's a pity I didn't know, we could have – "

"Now listen to me, you dense incompetent," Snape interrupted as he turned round, his wand in his hand. Tonight just wasn't the night to get on his nerves. "Won't you ever stop following me around? I'm more than tired of you and can barely tolerate your existence any longer."

Ursaglow made to speak but Snape lifted his wand menacingly. Ursaglow closed his mouth and gulped uneasily.

"From now on, you will stop following me," Snape began to order, his wand still pointed at the young wizard while he advanced threateningly towards him. At the same time, Ursaglow stepped back. "You will stop talking to me. You will ignore me and even stop acknowledging my presence. You will behave as if I didn't exist. And then, maybe, I will be able to forget I ever had the misfortune of meeting you." Ursaglow was now against the wall and Snape's wand was an inch from his face. "Any question?" Snape added as a matter of form.

"I… I just wanted to make friends," Ursaglow stuttered.

"And I obviously don't," Snape replied coldly. "Now follow my instructions to the letter and maybe I won't feel the need to curse you until you hurt so much that you cry for mercy."

Snape turned on his heels and entered his rooms with relief.

The next day was, as Snape soon realised, a continuation of the previous night's disaster. While the morning unrolled rather uneventfully - apart from a couple of odd behaviours from some students - the afternoon was another story. It was as if all the students in this double Potions NEWT level class had decided to aggravate him. On a brighter note, he had managed to break the all time record of points taken from a single House - how unfortunate it had to be Gryffindor - during one lesson.

However, at the end of that lesson he had had to ask Potter to stay so he could inform the boy about Dumbledore's decision regarding Occlumency. Obviously the Headmaster had already told Potter about it himself so Snape was saved the bother to argue with the insolent boy.

Snape later headed for the Great Hall for dinner. He realised his mistake the instant he set foot in the Hall. Valentine's Day. He had completely forgotten about that one - even if it explained the morning students' odd behaviour.

He should really keep track of all these insignificant little things that made his life hell so he could avoid them.

Snape reached the teachers' table doing his best to ignore the pinkish and other hearty decorations - he didn't even want to wonder who had taken care of these this year. Ursaglow didn't look at him even once. Maybe he had managed to get a piece of information into this thick head, after all…

When Snape looked down at the students, the density of teenage hormones per cubic metre made him sick. Thankfully, Dumbledore didn't make any indigestible speech about love - Snape wasn't sure he would have been able to eat after that. Instead the meal started immediately and Snape discovered with mild horror a heart-shaped pie on his plate. He gave it a long disgusted look before picking up his glass while he watched students digging in their plates heartily.

Snape frowned just as his glass almost reached his lips. There was… yes, this very subtle and almost undetectable scent to his drink. A scent so faint only the finest nose would be able to identify the delicate mix of syrup of Hellebore and essence of Belladonna associated to a hint of infusion of wormwood.

His eyes grew wide with horror as he drew his conclusions. A quick look at his left and he discovered with shock McGonagall drinking.

"Don't!" he hissed as he snatched her glass from her.

The witch stared at him with surprise. "Severus, what's come over you?"

Snape stood up abruptly and turned towards the students. "Don't drink anything! The drinks are poisoned!" he yelled.

An odd silence settled as all the heads turned in his direction. Snape knew the other teachers were staring at him too. During a few seconds there were a few murmurs, some exchanged glances, until all the students started to eat again as if he hadn't said a thing.

What were they doing? Snape wondered with disbelief. Were they all stupid enough to ignore his warning?

Still standing, Snape turned to Dumbledore for support, and found the old wizard his nose above his glass, a frown on his forehead. The Headmaster suddenly stood up as well.

"Do as Professor Snape told you!" Dumbledore instructed. "He's right, the drinks are poisoned!"

Snape didn't have the time to get offended that this time the students looked at each other anxiously, for he soon felt a hand on his wrist. He turned and saw McGonagall sniffing at her glass with a concerned look on her face.

She looked up at him. "Severus, what kind of – "

She never finished her sentence. Her gaze suddenly became empty as her glass slowly slipped from her hand. She fell head first on the table.

"Minerva!" Snape called with worry, a hand on the witch's shoulder, but it was too late. She was already unconscious.

Snape looked up at the sound of cries of fear and panic erupting from all around the Great Hall: dozens of students were falling, unconscious as well.

* * *

Coming Next: _Interrogations_


	22. Interrogations

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 22  
INTERROGATIONS**

When Snape entered the Hospital Wing the next day, he realised he had never seen it so full in his entire life - not even after that terrible Quidditch incident during his third year at Hogwarts. All the beds were occupied and extra ones had been conjured. With all these, one could barely walk from one place to another without bumping into or stepping on someone.

Madam Pomfrey was overwhelmed with work. She had come to the same conclusion as Snape had: all this was the effect of the Dormant Poison. This very complex poison plunged its victim into an eternal and tormented sleep. It was Dark Arts of course, and had no known antidote to date.

Snape spotted Ursaglow in a corner explaining this with many useless details and examples to a couple of horror struck students. When Ursaglow saw Snape, the young wizard immediately looked away. Good boy.

On the other side of the room, Snape also noticed Potter, a comforting arm wrapped around Granger's shoulders as the Head Girl looked down at Weasley's bed with tears in her eyes. There was also Crabbe somewhere, Snape knew, which meant Crabbe Senior hadn't been warned any more than he had.

In a way, it was good to see the Dark Lord suspected just about everyone.

Snape made his way to McGonagall's bed. The old witch seemed to be sleeping, but Snape knew it wasn't a quiet sleep. Dumbledore was already there, a concerned frown barring his forehead.

"Ah, Severus," the Headmaster greeted. "Come with me for a moment, will you?"

Dumbledore managed to find them a quiet place in a corner, away from any prying ears.

"I am glad you detected the presence of this poison immediately when I didn't. With years passed by, my senses aren't as acute as they used to be, but thanks to you we avoided the worst. However, the situation is still critical," the old wizard said in a very tired voice. "Parents are furious, and the Ministry wants to take over. They want to send Aurors to investigate, but I managed to get a two day delay."

Snape nodded. Dumbledore wanted to investigate on his own.

"As much as it saddens me, I suspect House Elves to be involved," the Headmaster continued. "Not all of them of course, one or two would be enough…"

"Do you suspect some in particular?" Snape asked.

"I have no certainties yet," Dumbledore began, "and I prefer to keep my opinion unbiased. I will interrogate a couple of House Elves this afternoon, and I will need your participation. Could you bring me some Veritaserum? I probably won't need to use any of it, but… just in case…"

"Of course," Snape replied.

At that precise moment, an owl flew to Dumbledore and dropped a red Howler at his feet.

"Ah, a Howler," Dumbledore noted on a half amused tone. "I expect many more of these as soon as the news spreads. At two this afternoon in my office, Severus?"

Snape only nodded his agreement, for the Howler unwrapped itself and started to yell.

"PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE! I AM TOTALLY OUTRAGED TO LEARN THAT MY SON WAS SUBJECTED TO AN INCURABLE POISON WHILE ATTENDING SCHOOL! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INTOLERABLE! I WILL NOT ALLOW MY CHILD TO REMAIN THERE ANY LONGER AND WILL TAKE HIM TO ST MUNGO TO BE HEALED PROPERLY!"

As he had been asked, Snape came to Dumbledore's office at the beginning of the afternoon with a flask of Veritaserum. These last years, he always had some available - you never knew when it could come in handy during these dark days.

He found a House Elf waiting nervously in the antechamber. He didn't know his name - there were so many of them it was hard to keep track - but the Elf was wearing an outrageous number of layers of all kinds of disparate clothes.

"Good afternoon, sir! Is Professor Snape waiting for Professor Dumbledore too?" the Elf asked.

"He's expecting me," Snape replied coldly as he knocked on the Headmaster's door. He entered shortly after.

"Here is the Veritaserum you asked," he told Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Severus," the old wizard said before inviting the House Elf in. "Come in, Dobby. I hope you don't mind if Professor Snape remains here while we talk?"

Snape gave a quick annoyed look to Dumbledore. He could have asked _him_ first if _he_ didn't mind staying longer.

"Dobby doesn't mind, sir," the Elf replied.

"Good," the Headmaster nodded. "So, Dobby, you informed me this morning that you might know the identity of the one who poisoned the drinks yesterday."

"Dobby fears he does, sir," the Elf answered. "But Dobby doesn't wish any harm to the one who did."

"I assure you that no harm will be done to whoever is guilty, Dobby," Dumbledore promised.

"Professor Dumbledore is a very kind Master, sir," the Elf thanked him. "But Dobby isn't sure Professor Dumbledore will be as kind as soon as he knows Dobby could have stopped this before it happened, sir," the Elf said hesitantly, fidgeting the hem of one of his many jumpers.

"Did you poison the drinks?" Snape intervened with a suspicious tone.

The Elf looked outraged. "No, Dobby didn't, sir. Dobby would never do such a thing."

"Then how could you have prevented the poisoning?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Dobby tried to convince her not to do it, Professor Dumbledore, sir. Dobby thought he had managed to," the Elf apologised, looking down at his multicoloured socks sheepishly. "So Dobby didn't tell anything to Professor Dumbledore, because Dobby didn't want to put her into trouble, sir."

"Dobby," Dumbledore began calmly. "Tell me, who poisoned the drinks?"

The Elf was still staring at his socks. "Winky did, sir," he eventually whispered guiltily.

Dumbledore lay back in his armchair. "Are you sure? This is no light accusation, Dobby."

"Dobby knows, sir," the Elf replied as he looked up to the Headmaster with a serious look on his face. "But Dobby heard Winky talk about it. Winky said friends of her former Master asked Winky to do it."

"How would they be able to contact her?" Snape asked.

"Winky is a free House Elf, sir," Dobby explained. "Winky can go wherever Winky wants. Dobby thinks Winky went to the friends of her former Master when Winky was depressed." The Elf turned to Dumbledore. "They are evil people, Professor Dumbledore, but Dobby supposes Winky didn't know who to turn to, even though Dobby always offered help to Winky, sir."

The Headmaster took a deep breath and sighed. "So it would be them who gave her the poison and asked her to poison the drinks," he concluded. "By any chance, Dobby, would you know who these friends are?"

"Dobby doesn't, sir, Professor Dumbledore will have to ask Winky," the Elf replied.

Dumbledore nodded. "Dobby, would you care to go and fetch Winky, now?"

"Dobby will, sir," the Elf answered and disappeared through the door.

Snape turned to Dumbledore as soon as the Elf was gone. "May I return to my other affairs, now?" he asked.

"If you so wish, Severus." The Headmaster then looked at him over his spectacles. "Though I would appreciate if you consented to remain here for a little longer."

Snape sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest. He hated when the old wizard did that, giving orders without actually giving orders. A few minutes later, another Elf entered the Headmaster's office, probably the one named Winky, Snape assumed.

The House Elf looked very embarrassed and was staring at the ground. "Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape," she greeted them uneasily in a whisper.

"Winky," the Headmaster began. "I suppose you know why I asked you to come here?"

The Elf nodded meekly.

"Winky, did you poison the drinks?" Dumbledore asked gravely.

The House Elf grimaced, looking torn. After a few silent seconds, she nodded and burst into tears.

Dumbledore sighed heavily "It's alright Winky. Just tell me how you managed to get this poison."

"Winky _sniff_ doesn't know if she should, _sniff_ sir," the Elf stuttered.

"This is very important, Winky," Dumbledore insisted. "You have to tell me."

The Elf hesitated. "Will Professor Dumbledore forgive Winky and allow her to stay at Hogwarts if Winky tells Professor Dumbledore?"

"Of course," the Headmaster assured her, "I never considered throwing you out of Hogwarts. Now tell me, Winky, who gave you this poison and asked you to poison the drinks?"

Winky opened her mouth, shivered and closed it again. Then she remained silent a few more seconds. Snape was thinking she would never betray whoever had ordered her to poison the drinks when she spoke at last.

"Narcissa Malfoy," Winky replied in a murmur.

Malfoy, Snape repeated silently. Of course. The Elf mentioned Narcissa, but Snape knew the instructions came from her on-the-loose-Death Eater husband. It was very much like Lucius to do something like this. Maybe it was even his own idea, and he would have suggested it to the Dark Lord. Voldemort was usually a bit more direct in his attacks - the giants' one was blatant evidence of this fact. But Lucius… If there was a term to describe his style, it was 'devious'.

"Thank you Winky," Dumbledore said. "You can return to your duties now."

Snape stared at Dumbledore. He wasn't going to hand her to the Ministry?

The House Elf blinked a couple of times at the Headmaster. "Is that all, sir? Professor Dumbledore isn't going to punish Winky?"

"I need some time to ponder," Dumbledore sighed sadly, "but I think you were misguided and wouldn't have acted the same way under other circumstances. As I said, I am willing to forgive you, as you told me who gave you these orders. However, I expect you to never go back there and to report to me if they ever try to contact you again. Do you understand?"

The Elf nodded wildly. "Of course, Professor Dumbledore, sir! Thank you sir!" she replied before storming out of Dumbledore's office.

"Why did you send her away?" Snape asked as soon as the Elf was gone. "We could have used this information to convict Narcissa Malfoy!"

"We both know Narcissa is but the intermediary," Dumbledore countered. "Plus I doubt the testimony of a House Elf would have much weight in a trial at the Ministry."

Snape nodded.

"Well," the Headmaster went on with a slight smile as he gave a look at his watch, "I believe we finished just in time for you to go give your Occlumency lesson to Harry."

Snape suddenly straightened. He had completely forgotten about it since his visit to the Hospital Wing. Was it why Dumbledore had insisted he stayed? To make sure he didn't forget?

"I'll be right off, then," Snape answered. "I surely wouldn't want to be late to spend some quality time with my favourite student," he finished bitterly.

A few minutes later, Snape was in front of the Potions classroom. Potter was already there, just outside the room, waiting for him - even if the boy didn't look happy to see him. Snape unlocked the door and walked in without a word. Potter followed him silently.

During the next seconds, Snape magically pulled the tables and chairs aside. From the corner of his eyes he noticed Potter staring at a cupboard where he knew a Pensieve was - Dumbledore had lent it to him again in anticipation of the Occlumency lessons so he could store some of his memories, which he had already done earlier that morning.

As soon as he was done with the furniture, Snape walked up to the cupboard, aware of Potter's gaze following him. There, he conscientiously locked the cupboard while casting a nasty look towards his student.

He walked back to the centre of the room where Potter was standing. They both eyed each other in tense silence for a few seconds. Snape took his wand out.

"Ready, Potter?"

* * *

Coming Next: _The Puppet Master_


	23. The Puppet Master

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 23  
THE PUPPET MASTER**

Dumbledore looked gravely at Hogwarts's staff members, all assembled in the Headmaster's office.

"Ladies, Gentlemen," he began with a sombre frown. "I am sure you are all well aware of the seriousness of the crisis Hogwarts is going through. Last night, roughly fifty students as well as Minerva were poisoned by the Dormant Poison, which is, as you might know, incurable."

The Headmaster paused, looking older than ever.

"I've been dealing with the Ministry during the last few hours, and their investigations led to a dead-end."

Snape stared at Dumbledore: the implication of the House Elf or of the Malfoys had been totally hushed up.

"As for the parents," Dumbledore went on, "they are understandably quite furious. A lot of them wanted to take their children to St Mungo, and those have already been transferred there."

The old wizard gave a look around at the silent teachers in front of him.

"I also discussed the matter with several Healers at St Mungo," the Headmaster continued. "They told me not to hold onto any hopes concerning the possibility of finding a cure. They don't have enough time on their hands to search for one." He paused again. "Which is why I was wondering if, maybe, one of you would have heard of anything that could help find a cure."

Dumbledore waited a few seconds, looking expectantly at the teachers, but none spoke up. "Anything, even just a lead," Dumbledore persisted, sending Snape an insistent look. "Severus, if I remember correctly, you have, ah… a fascinating collection of books, shall I say?"

Snape glared back at him and shook his head. What did he expect exactly? And what was he getting at? No, nothing sprang to his mind any more than to the other teachers. The Dormant Poison was incurable; anyone with the least knowledge about Dark Arts knew that - as did someone with an extensive knowledge about Dark Arts.

"Maybe something related to poison-induced curses?" the Headmaster asked again.

Something suddenly clicked in Severus' head. Where had he heard of poison-induced curses before? Oh, he suddenly realised. Wasn't it mentioned somewhere in that book Wilson had yearned for? '_Combining different kinds of magic_', was it? Yes, there was a section dealing with poison-induced curses!

Snape sharply looked left to the other side of the room where the Charms teacher was standing. She was frowning, with an expression of sudden comprehension on her face, until she turned right to look back straight at him. She had read about it too, Snape concluded.

Dumbledore noticed their exchanged glance - looking as though he had expected it.

"Severus, Endora? Anything to suggest?" he asked.

Snape was the first to answer, with the odd feeling that Dumbledore already knew what he was about to explain - on days like these, Dumbledore sounded frighteningly more like a puppet master than a mere Headmaster. "I own a book - that Professor Wilson read as well - dealing partly with potion-induced curses, but I have never used any of its contents for experimentation."

"Do you think the information contained in this book could be used to elaborate a cure?" Dumbledore questioned.

Snape hesitated. He hadn't read it in detail, and would have to read it again to answer that question. But Wilson, on the other side of the room, was nodding vigorously.

"This book's section is very complete," she replied, "and would constitute an excellent basis for experiments."

"Then would you be able to carry out research for a cure, using this book's information?" Dumbledore queried.

Did the puppet master want to let the puppets think they still had some free will? Snape shrugged off this thought - this wasn't the Dark Lord he had in front of him, but Dumbledore, a wizard that had helped him more than any other ever would.

Wilson hesitated for a second before shaking her head. "This part of the book deals with combining Charms and Potions, and I'm not skilled enough in Potions, not to mention experimental Potions."

Dumbledore turned to Snape with a questioning look, but before the Headmaster could ask him the same question, Snape shook his head as well. The Potions part would obviously not be a problem to him, but he wasn't skilled enough in experimental Charms.

Who would be skilled enough in both Charms and Potions to be able to carry out these experiments? Snape wondered. Apart from Dumbledore himself, he couldn't think of anyone qualified enough. Maybe McGonagall would have been, though.

"I could have a try."

Just like all the other teachers, Snape turned to stare disbelievingly at Ursaglow. The confidence that man had in his own abilities was astounding.

"That's a very kind offer, Mizar," Dumbledore replied with a warm smile, "but I'd rather have our Charms and Potions specialists work together on this."

Snape suddenly straightened in his seat. He glared at Dumbledore for a moment, then glared at Wilson - who was glaring back - before glaring at Dumbledore again. He wasn't serious, was he? No, wait. This was Dumbledore after all - even the craziest thing that wizard said had to be taken seriously.

"With you, Endora, taking care of the Charms part, and you, Severus, taking care of the Potions part," Dumbledore went on, "I'm sure it will only be a matter of time before you find a cure to the Dormant poison."

Snape glared once more at Wilson with antipathy. She looked as thrilled by the prospect of working with him as he was.

"I would like all of you," Dumbledore said as he turned to the other teachers, "to help them both should they require your assistance in any area."

All wizards and witches nodded.

"Thank you all for coming here today," Dumbledore concluded. "Severus, Endora, could you remain here a few more minutes?"

Snape waited until everyone was gone except for the three of them to burst out.

"Albus, if you really intend me to – "

He was cut short by the Headmaster. "Severus, this is no time for petty and selfish considerations," Dumbledore said gravely. "We have no time to spare. These children, as well as Minerva," he reminded, "need a cure. Quickly."

Snape opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by Dumbledore.

"I want the best to work on this," the Headmaster went on. "And as far as I'm concerned you two are more than skilled enough in experimentation in your respective research fields."

"You could – " Snape began.

"I would deal with it myself," Dumbledore said as though he had read Snape's mind, "if I wasn't busy enough dealing with the Ministry, the parents, and my usual load of school administration as well as Minerva's."

Snape hesitated before arguing again - or rather attempting to. "But – "

"I do hope that by now, you have developed enough trust in each other, especially after what you've both been through, to be able to work together, haven't you?"

Snape remained silent for a few seconds, staring at Dumbledore who was looking back at him above his half-moon glasses. Snape averted his eyes with a sigh, only for his gaze to fall on Wilson. She was looking at the Headmaster, an expression of resignation on her face.

"So, Severus," Dumbledore continued, "will you agree to work with Endora, or will I have to ask Mizar to take over the job?"

Snape shot a venomous look to the old wizard, feeling offended that he would suggest Ursaglow as an alternative to him. He eventually nodded sharply with another annoyed sigh.

He already seemed to have too little free time. Now he would have virtually no free time at all. Which meant that his personal project was officially on hold for an unspecified duration.

Absolutely brilliant.

"Good," Dumbledore went on, "this is settled then. I will leave the organisation to your discretion," he said looking alternately at Snape and Wilson, "but if I may, I would like to give you two a little piece of advice. I think it would be interesting to share your notes on your respective ongoing projects and use them as a base to start your research."

Snape had a noticeable start when the Headmaster mentioned his project. How could he know about it? Or rather, how could he know enough about what it was about to think it could be of help - which it could be, as Snape realised now that Dumbledore had suggested it.

Snape gave a quick look at Wilson. She was staring blankly at the Headmaster, gaping slightly. She might also be a bit paler than the minute before.

"How– how do you know?" she asked quietly.

Dumbledore discarded the question with a slight smile, and Snape thought he saw a mischievous twinkle in the old wizard's eyes.

"I sincerely hope you both follow my advice. And," the Headmaster concluded, "good luck to the two of you."

The next day, the lessons - which had been temporarily cancelled since the poisoning - started again. It had been agreed that he and Wilson would meet that evening, once the lessons were over and once the Occlumency one Snape had with Potter was done with. It had also been decided they would work in the Potions classroom, since Wilson could work on Charms virtually anywhere, while Snape could hardly work anywhere other than in his Potions lab.

As always, Snape didn't look forward to meeting Potter. And obviously the boy didn't look forward to seeing him either. It was quite clear that Potter had trained on his own during these two years: it now took him longer to fail miserably at trying to prevent Snape's mental intrusions.

Overall there wasn't much improvement, though. Snape always ended up accessing some pathetic memory of Potter's, and Potter always ended up angrier - when would the boy understand that anger was exactly what he should avoid at any cost?

Potter managed to get past Snape's own mental barriers only once that day, but thankfully the lesson was over only a few minutes later. Snape soon wondered whether he should really be thankful when he saw Wilson and Potter meet on the Potions classroom doorstep.

"Hey, Harry," Wilson greeted with a warm smile. She was holding a stack of parchments under her arm.

"Good evening, Professor," Potter replied, looking relieved to see a friendly face down there. "Er, Professor?" he called Wilson back as she moved away. Potter then cast Snape a quick look before whispering something to Wilson.

The witch's answer was loud enough for Snape to hear. "You won't manage to get in touch with him, he's, erm, busy these days."

Potter smiled sadly and left.

Wilson headed for Snape's desk and laid down her stack of parchments there while Snape browsed through his own pile of papers to make sure everything was there.

"Here's a compilation of my notes on - hey, isn't that a Pensieve?"

Snape looked up and saw Wilson stride to the cupboard where the Pensieve was stored and bend over the bowl eagerly.

"I never saw one for real, it's such a rare item… Is it really like they say in books?" The witch turned her eyes filled with overexcitement toward Snape. "Can you really see someone else's memories as if you actually lived them?"

She looked like a child with a new toy. Snape nodded unenthusiastically. Wilson turned her attention back to the Pensieve and began to tap the bowl lightly. Seeing this, Snape instantly stood up with alarm and strode towards the cupboard.

"That's so fascinating, I've always wondered – "

Snape would never know what she had always wondered for he closed the cupboard's door sharply, not caring that her fingers were in the way.

His initiative was welcomed by a shout of pain followed closely by several nasty curses. Wilson then cast him a murderous look. As a reply, Snape arched his eyebrows defiantly. After a few seconds she headed back towards his desk, muttering under her breath.

Each of them picked up his or her own notes. Snape was reluctant to hand her a collection of information so precious to him - so was she, obviously.

"This," she said as she clutched her papers tightly, "represents many years of work. So I would appreciate some care when handling it."

"The same goes for my notes," Snape warned.

After a few more hesitant seconds they eventually exchanged their notes warily.

To his own surprise, Snape found Wilson's notes to be a quite interesting read. Not because, as he quickly gathered, this was all about finding a cure for the werewolf condition - how surprising coming from a werewolf's sister. But because it felt as though what he read in there could help him solve the problems he encountered with his own project.

It was striking how what had stopped Wilson in her progression was her distaste for Potions. And while she was reading his own notes, Snape was sure the witch was realising what he now knew had stopped _his_ progression - his disinterest for Charms.

Snape now understood why Dumbledore had set both of them on this job. The connection between the werewolf condition and poison-induced curses was almost instantaneous. As for the Dark Mark… Few but those who had experienced it first hand knew it was provoked by the absorption of a potion. A potion to get closer to your flesh than any spell or curse could - to get _in_ your flesh and mark it indelibly.

But now Snape realised it had been no ordinary Dark Arts potion, and after reading both '_Combining…_' and Wilson's work, he wouldn't be surprised if that very special potion had been a Charmed one… Which would explain why all his experiments until then had failed. A potion could always be countered by another potion, but a Charmed potion… this was unexplored territory for him.

With both of their works as a start and the enlightenment provided by '_Combining…_', they might be able to work something out. It would be a long way, but they just might… And Snape could see the faint possibility that in the process they may find what he had looked for for years: how to get rid of the Dark Mark…

It almost made him enthusiastic about this whole project. Almost.

* * *

Coming Next: _The Joys of Teamwork_


	24. The Joys Of Teamwork

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 24  
THE JOYS OF TEAMWORK**

Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap.

Snape looked up from his cauldron, annoyed. He stopped for a second and took a few deep breaths before looking back to the experimental potion he was brewing.

Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.

Snape clenched his fists angrily. He wouldn't be able to take this any longer.

Tap tap tap.

Snape looked up again and shot Wilson a murderous look. "Would you _care_ to stop doing this?" he spat.

The infuriating sound immediately stopped when Wilson froze, the back of her wand an inch above the desk's surface, and looked up at him with wonder. "Stop doing what?" she asked.

Snape kept glaring at Wilson for several seconds, all the more annoyed by her look of surprise and innocence, before focusing on his potion again with a heavy sigh.

He and Wilson had been working 'together' - the word might be a bit too strong - every weekday evening and all day during the weekend. As a matter of fact, this was the second Saturday they were spending together - and it was an understatement to say Snape didn't exactly enjoy the company.

Their researches advanced at a slow pace. The previous week they had survived a heated argument about whether it was the ingredients or the potion itself that should be Charmed - an unresolved issue they still argued about on a regular basis.

The previous weekend Snape had been called by his Dark Mark for a very straining meeting with the Dark Lord. The question of Wilson's survival had been raised and Snape, seeing her every day at Hogwarts, had been interrogated thoroughly. The pressure on the unknown identity of the traitor was increasing, and Snape wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to keep his cover - especially since he was blessed with a couple of Cruciatus curses at every meeting now.

When he had returned from this meeting, wishing more than anything to be alone, Snape had found Wilson still working in the Potions classroom.

"Someone tried to get in touch with you," she had informed him casually with a nod toward the chimney. "An old witch. Dark haired. And quite rude."

Certainly his mother, Snape had concluded before asking if she had left a message - which he hoped she hadn't.

"Well, when I answered 'no' to the question 'are you a pureblood?' she told me she'd rather leave a message to a trustworthy House Elf than to one of the likes of me. So, no, I don't have any message for you," Wilson had replied bitterly.

Definitely his mother, Snape had concluded. It was only a few minutes later that Wilson looked him up and down and noticed his physical weakness. If she dared…

"Do you need me to – "

"No," he had cut short.

"But you should – "

"I told you no," he had repeated firmly.

Wilson had had the sense to leave shortly after.

And now, a week later, they were still working on that cure.

"Er, excuse me?" Wilson called. Snape looked up from his cauldron. "Would you be any good at Arithmancy by any chance?" she went on.

"It depends. Arithmancy applied to Charms, probably not," he replied truthfully.

"Hmm," she said with a slight pout and a frown as she looked down to the piece of parchment in front of her. "I'll go ask Professor Vector then," Wilson concluded before leaving, taking the piece of parchment with her.

Ah, silence. A rare luxury these days. And considering how well Wilson and Vector seemed to be getting on, this unexpected peacefulness might well last several hours… Unfortunately, Snape only had a few minutes to enjoy these blissful moments.

"Sev– er, Professor Snape!" called the unwelcome voice of Mizar Ursaglow. "How are things going?"

"Very smoothly, thank you," Snape replied coldly.

Ursaglow cast a look around. "Where is Endora? I was hoping to find her here."

"She's with Professor Vector," Snape answered truthfully, not wanting to miss the opportunity of sending the DADA teacher somewhere else - anywhere.

"Oh. But she'll come back here, won't she?" Ursaglow said confidently, and took a chair close to where Snape was working.

Snape decided not to remind Ursaglow he was supposed to ignore his existence and to avoid talking to him - for the moment.

"Do you need some help?" Ursaglow offered.

"No," Snape retorted with a murderous look.

"Anything encouraging working yet?" the DADA teacher asked cheerfully after a few seconds of silence.

"NO," Snape replied venomously. "But we'll keep you informed as soon as we find the cure. So you can leave me to my work with no fear of missing anything."

As could be expected, Ursaglow didn't move, and kept examining Snape's work. Snape would have already shoved him out if he didn't have to pay close attention to his potion.

"Oh, that looks great!" Ursaglow suddenly exclaimed and extended his hand towards the cauldron.

Snape caught the DADA teacher's wrist before the fool could spoil anything, and started to squeeze dangerously with a menacing glare.

"This," Snape began on the tone of one talking to a very dumb child, "is a very delicate experiment. Thus, I will ask you to keep your hands as far from it as you can. Understood?" he finished cuttingly.

Ursaglow was still looking at the cauldron's contents avidly. "And what is – "

"Understood?" Snape repeated, squeezing Ursaglow's wrist even more.

"Oh, yes, sure," the young man replied absentmindedly, trying to free his wrist.

Snape let go reluctantly. During the next few minutes, he found it hard to keep his concentration with Ursaglow looking his work over. At least the young wizard remained silent…

Wilson chose that moment to come back, a pile of books in her arms. As she entered the room, she suddenly froze when she spotted Ursaglow, his head over Snape's cauldron. From the corner of his eyes, Snape observed her turn around warily and walk out slowly in a probable attempt to leave unnoticed.

It seemed Wilson was as unlucky as Snape when it came to Ursaglow, for the young man hailed her before she was out of sight.

"Hey, Endora!"

Snape was sure he heard Wilson mutter a curse under her breath before she turned round to face them, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"Mizar! It's so good to see you here!" she greeted with simulated enthusiasm.

"I was wondering if you would like to have a drink," he invited.

"I, er, well…" Wilson baffled uneasily. "We still have a lot of work, you see," she replied, casting a hopeful glance towards Snape.

Was she looking for help from _him_? Did she really expect him to back her up?

"Oh, we can work on this later," Snape intervened mischievously, "you two can go ahead."

Ursaglow turned to him with a broad smile while Wilson cast him an upset look.

"So you don't mind if I stay here with the two of you?"

Snape scowled at the innocent looking Ursaglow.

"Oh, by the way, I came across, er, Sybill on my way down here, she's looking for you," Wilson told Ursaglow. "It's about, er, the Duelling Club."

Snape arched an eyebrow at this obvious lie.

"Really?" Ursaglow asked. "I saw her an hour ago, she didn't tell me anything."

Wilson hesitated for an instant but Snape spoke up.

"Oh, you know Sybill. She looks tough but in fact she's a really shy one," Snape said sarcastically - and it was Wilson's turn to arch an eyebrow - not expecting Ursaglow to believe any of this. But he did.

"I never noticed, but… I think you're right," Ursaglow replied with a look of comprehension downing on his face. "But it doesn't matter, I'm sure it can wait."

"As a matter of fact, I think you should go see her now," Wilson argued. "It sounded rather urgent."

"Really?" Ursaglow wondered.

Snape jumped on the opportunity. "She told me about it the other day in the teacher's lounge; she seemed rather eager to start working on this project."

"A project? About the Duelling Club?" Ursaglow asked enthusiastically. "What kind of project?"

"She had a couple of ideas," Wilson offered. "New orientations."

"Great!" Ursaglow exclaimed.

Snape exchanged an amused look with Wilson.

"You should hurry so as to not let her wait," Snape remarked.

"Right!" Ursaglow agreed. "I'm sorry about this, but I guess we'll have to have a drink some other time. I'm off then! See you two later!"

As Ursaglow left hurriedly, Wilson and Snape exchanged another look, until Wilson burst out laughing. Snape gave a slight smile.

"This guy is really clueless, isn't he?" Wilson joked, putting her books down on the table at last. "But honestly, Trelawney, of all people, in the teacher's lounge?" she added with a chuckle. "She's going to have a bit of a shock when she sees him up her tower. Anyway, back to this thrilling Arithmancy dilemma…" she concluded as she sat and began to browse one of the books.

Out of curiosity, Snape eventually asked while keeping an eye on his potion: "What kind of dilemma?"

Wilson looked up, obviously surprised he asked. "Well, the problem with Charming ingredients is that they're mostly organic…"

"That is, if you decide to Charm the ingredients instead of the whole potion…" Snape argued with a smirk.

Wilson stared at him for a second. "Do you really want to go over this issue again?"

"Not really," Snape admitted.

"I thought as much," Wilson agreed. "As I was about to say, we're not trying to Charm these organic constituents to, say, make them fly or Transfigure them. What we want is basically to alter their intrinsic properties, which, since they are organic, is extremely complex."

"And you really think Arithmancy will help?" Snape asked doubtfully.

"It might," the witch confirmed. "Unless you have something else to suggest…?"

Snape moved to a bookshelf, picked a book and opened it to a specific page before handing it to Wilson. The witch started to read thoroughly, a frown barring her forehead - funny how she frowned the same way when concentrating or when she was angry at him.

"Yes, it might - hey, wait a second…" She browsed through a few pages. "What…" she muttered before closing the book to read its cover. Then she looked up to Snape with a reproachful expression on her face. "This is Dark Arts," she eventually said, pushing the book away from her.

"Yes, and?" Snape queried innocently.

"This is _Dark Arts_," she repeated in a tone she probably thought meaningful.

"I think you already established this," Snape retorted sarcastically.

"I will not resort to Dark Arts," Wilson stated stubbornly, "no matter how… useful it may sound."

Snape shrugged. "Fine," he said as he picked up his book. "Have fun with Arithmancy."

He heard her sigh while he moved away.

"And stop using that condescending tone on me!" she said.

Snape ignored her and dedicated all his attention to his potion again. Hours flew by and before he realised they had been working for over ten hours on that day. However, he still needed a couple of hours to bring his ongoing potion to completion.

Snape briefly looked up towards where Wilson was sitting. She was still scribbling on a piece of parchment - probably an Arithmancy computation of some kind - her head resting tiredly on her forearm and her eyes half closed.

Snape was used to working hours in a row and didn't mind strenuous day-long experiments. Wilson obviously wasn't used to it, and as he had already remarked she was one of these people who needed a lot of sleep.

He shrugged and turned to his cauldron again. A couple of hours later, he smiled with satisfaction. It _did_ look good. However, he would have to wait until the next day before running any tests on the potion: it was already almost the middle of the night.

Snape quickly filled some flasks with the potion and stored them, before looking towards Wilson. It was only then that he realised she had fallen asleep while working. A large stain of ink had formed at the spot on the parchment where the tip of her quill had laid for what could have been hours for all Snape could tell.

Snape briefly considered waking her up, before dismissing this idea with an indifferent shrug.

She was going to have one hell of a neck-ache when she woke up, though…

* * *

Coming Next: _As If Nothing Happened_


	25. As if Nothing Happened

**A/N**: The umbrellas featured in this chapter are thanks to **Kyer**.  
Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 25  
AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED**

When he entered the Great Hall, Snape immediately noticed the enchanted ceiling reflected the outside weather on this early March morning: cloudy verging on rainy. Just the perfect weather for Quidditch, he was sure the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff players were absolutely thrilled about it. It could be worse though: it could be a driving rain out there - but Snape didn't lose hope, it _could_ still turn into a driving rain…

Snape sat at the teachers' table, managing to ignore Ursaglow's invitation to sit next to him, and settled instead on the opposite side of the table, between - Merlin save him - Hooch and Trelawney.

If Hooch was usually of rather enjoyable company, she was to be avoided at all costs on the day of a Quidditch match - her over-enthusiasm could be quite disturbing sometimes. For instance, as Snape was about to sit, she gave him such a strong pat on the back that he had to grip the edge of the table tightly so as not to stumble over.

"Hey, Severus! Lovely day, isn't it?"

Snape nodded sharply.

As for Trelawney, she was always very keen on dispensing all sorts of wise - or so she thought - pieces of advice about one's future, especially early in the morning, since that was when she would tell all about the prophetic dreams she had had the previous night.

"I saw terrible things coming for you, Severus… Yes, terrible…" Trelawney said with an eerie voice.

"Oh, really?" he mocked.

"Yes, I did… And the inner eye never lies…" she continued.

Snape rolled his eyes and started to eat his breakfast, doing his best to ignore both Hooch's eager stamping and Trelawney's apocalyptic foretelling.

It was only a few minutes after, while everyone was busy eating, that Snape's attention was caught by a bright colour falling on the table. He paused and noticed there was now a red stain on the wooden surface.

Intrigued, he took a closer look, only to see another drop of red liquid fall a few inches from the other. The usual commotion produced by hundreds of children eating seemed to soften as the students too began to glance around with looks of wonder when more drops fell all around the Great Hall.

Snape looked up to the magical ceiling. He almost jumped when a drop fell right on his cheek. He wiped it with the tip of a finger and examined it. He frowned. Could it be…?

Snape brought the tip of his finger to his tongue.

Oh Merlin…

"It's blood! It's raining blood!" a student cried, standing up before running to the door.

It wasn't long before the Great Hall turned into a real mess as students started panicking and screaming. The ceiling turned a dark shade of red as more blood rained on them. All students stood up with terror and ran to the door, jostling anyone in their way.

This was going to turn into a stampede.

"Please, ladies and gentlemen, keep calm!" Dumbledore urged worriedly. "Do _not_ rush!"

For once, Dumbledore didn't manage to pacify them, and his words were lost in the turmoil.

"A blood-red sky…" Snape heard Trelawney mutter with her prophetess voice. "Bringing the terror back to our world…"

"All the prefects, lead the other students back to your common rooms; your Heads of House will come talk to you shortly!" the Headmaster called above the brouhaha. "As for you," he went on as he turned to the teachers while some of them were transfiguring their forks or knives into umbrellas - but others were still too shocked to even think about it, "follow me to my office."

Once all the students were out, the teachers managed to leave as well. Snape noticed Dumbledore staying behind and casting a spell on the charmed ceiling. A few minutes later, they were all standing in the Headmaster's office, dripping with blood. Filch muttered something in a reproachful tone about having to clean the whole castle.

Dumbledore sat at his desk with a thoughtful expression on his face and remained silent, his gaze far away.

"So? What just happened down there exactly?" Vector spoke, voicing everyone's concern.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "The magic protecting Hogwarts is weakening…" he muttered with worry. "The enchanted ceiling is a symbol of the school's power, and if someone managed to alter it…" his voice trailed off.

A noticeable shiver ran among the teachers.

"But who? Who could do that?" Sinistra queried. "Could it be You-Know-Who himself?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a second before answering that it was probably someone else, and Snape thought he knew the reason for this hesitation.

The Dark Lord needed someone _inside_ the school to pull that sort of trick. And someone very powerful in Dark Arts. But who, then? One of the teachers? This was highly unlikely. Most were trusted witches and wizards that had been teaching for many years, and the last two to join the staff - namely Wilson and Ursaglow - just didn't sound like the type to be able to do something like that.

Actually if there was a teacher that would sound like the type to be able to do something like that, it would be himself - Severus Snape.

Snape met Dumbledore's gaze for a second before the Headmaster turned another way.

"What about the game?" Hooch asked. "Are the school grounds safe? Should we cancel the match?"

Dumbledore hesitated briefly. "No, I think we should maintain it. I believe we could all do with some entertainment these days. And seeing how only the Great Hall's ceiling was affected, I guess the school grounds are just as safe as any other part of the castle…"

Some teachers exchanged looks, obviously thinking it was a dangerous decision. He could just as well have said the school grounds were as _unsafe_ as any other part of the castle.

"So… You want us to act as if nothing happened?" one of them asked unbelievingly.

"Exactly. We all have enough to worry about. I will take care of the Great Hall, and everything will be back to normal soon. All the Heads of House, could you please go talk to the students of your Houses and reassure them?" Dumbledore asked, and Snape, Sprout and Wilson nodded. "I will go talk to the Gryffindor students on behalf of Minerva…" he continued sadly. "And Severus, Endora, keep working on the cure."

When Snape reached the Slytherin common room several minutes later, he was surprised to see the mixed attitudes of the students. Some were sneering, some looked frightened. Some were oddly silent, while some others were having everyday conversations. In any case, most hadn't cared to change and were still covered with blood.

Snape wondered if some of them could be involved with the Great Hall's incident when he caught Draco Malfoy exchanging a smug look with Crabbe and Goyle. Some of these students were very cunning, and most weren't averse to Dark Arts…

Dismissing the thought, Snape spoke to them briefly, explaining that they shouldn't worry about what happened in the Great Hall, that everything was under control now and that the Quidditch match would still take place.

Once he was done with them he headed for the Potions classroom where he and Wilson had to keep working on a cure for the Dormant Poison. The witch arrived a good half hour after he did, probably delayed by her ever inquisitive Ravenclaw students.

"What a hectic day, hey?" she said casually as a greeting. "Well honestly I could have done without the extra stress today…"

Snape briefly wondered what she meant by _extra_ stress before focusing on the work at hand, and realised that their eternal issue about what should be Charmed was, again, in the path of progress. They could spend ages on this if they didn't come to an agreement.

"I think we should decide once and for all what to Charm, the ingredients or the potion," he said bluntly.

Wilson looked up to him. "I thought we had agreed on this already."

"No, as a matter of fact _you_ stubbornly decided that you were the one who was right about this point," Snape objected.

Wilson sighed heavily. "I didn't think we'd have to go through this again, but here goes anyway. Potion, singular. Ingredients, plural, hence more possibilities."

"So tell me, are you going to Charm each of the ingredients of each potion I make? Then, if it doesn't work, try to Charm all but one?" Snape said on a mocking tone. "Or just Charm a couple? But what couple will you chose to Charm among a dozen of ingredients? The combinations are exponential!"

"That's exactly my point!" the witch cried out.

"But for each potion I want to try you will Charm the ingredients in a hundred different ways!" Snape argued. "Which will turn into a hundred potions to brew instead of one!"

"And so what?" she asked. "We're looking for a cure, aren't we? We have to experiment!"

"To experiment, yes. To lose lots of time on tests bound to fail, certainly not," he retorted firmly.

Wilson sighed. "Oh, fine. Whatever," she eventually said bitterly with a shrug.

Snape stared at her with surprise. What was wrong with her? Couldn't she at least argue a bit? He had known her to be much more vehement.

"The potions I already prepared are up there in that cupboard," Snape indicated. "I labelled them. There are several flasks of each potion I made so you can try to Charm each of them in different ways."

She nodded unenthusiastically and headed for the cupboard, while Snape resumed his preparation for his next experiment. After a few minutes, she still hadn't returned. Annoyed by her attitude - as if they had more time to waste - Snape turned to see what the heck she was waiting for.

He found her standing in front of the cupboard, several flasks in her arms, staring intently at the Pensieve with an odd expression on her face.

"Don't you think it's high time you started working?" Snape suggested sarcastically.

Dragged from her reverie, she came back and started working at last. However, Snape noticed she wasn't concentrating very well. All morning she kept glancing towards the Pensieve, every now and then with some kind of longing look.

When the afternoon came, Snape carefully locked the Pensieve's cupboard before heading for the Quidditch pitch. As he left, Wilson informed him that she'd stay there and keep working.

Even if Slytherin wasn't one of the teams playing, Snape found the game to be quite entertaining - maybe it was _precisely_ because Slytherin wasn't playing, considering how pitiful they were this year.

At first, the mood was quite awkward, everyone over the pitch or in the stands still remembering very vividly what had so recently happened in the Great Hall. But after a few Bludger hits, several goals and a couple of fouls, the Quidditch mood was settled.

Dumbledore had been right, the game seemed to cheer everyone up.

When Snape came back to the Potions classroom to keep working on the cure and saw Wilson's faraway gaze and watery eyes, he instantly knew something was wrong with her - and the fact there was a half empty bottle of Firewhisky on her table had absolutely nothing to do with his sudden insight about female psychology.

He decided he didn't want to know, and started working as if he hadn't seen anything. However, after a few minutes, he couldn't help but notice she was staring at the Pensieve again - she didn't even pretend to be working any more.

Snape almost jumped when she spoke up with a hesitant voice.

"Is it… Is it really effective? The Pensieve I mean. Are the memories really that clear?"

Snape scowled at her warily. "Why?"

"If I shared a memory with someone through the Pensieve, would that person be able to see exactly what I saw, even if the memory were several years old?" she asked with a weak voice.

"Why?" Snape asked again.

Wilson cast a quick look towards the Pensieve again. "Do you know the other Death Eaters well?"

Snape was tempted to ask 'why?' again. What was she getting at exactly? "Enough," he replied slowly.

"Would you be able to identify any of them?"

"Most," Snape answered cautiously. He didn't like the turn this almost one-sided conversation was taking. "Will you tell me what it is you want to know exactly or would you rather keep it cryptic?"

The witch hesitated once more, for almost a full minute this time. When Snape began to think she would remain silent, she spoke up at last.

"I need a favour," she said.

"You already owe me one," Snape reminded coldly.

"Then I'll owe you two," Wilson retorted.

Snape tiredly gestured her to go on.

Wilson took a deep breath before talking. "As you certainly know, I lost my husband and my son a couple of years ago. Well, actually, exactly five years ago today…"

Oh. At least this explained the faraway gaze and the watery eyes. Probably the alcohol too.

"Five years…" she repeated and sighed. "Five bloody years and I still have no idea whatsoever about who killed them… And the Ministry is so incredibly incompetent…"

Snape was beginning to get what it was she wanted. She wanted him to take a look at her memories through the Pensieve and try to identify her family's murderer for her.

"So I thought, maybe…"

"No."

She looked up to him with surprise. "But – "

"No," he persisted stubbornly. Nothing good could come from this.

Wilson now looked as though she was about to cry.

Oh no, she wasn't about to pull that one on him again, was she?

"Please," she begged. "I need to know… It's been five years…"

Snape sighed heavily. "You _do_ know that it is advised to avoid drinking before using a Pensieve because of the – "

"Oh come on, I'm not that drunk!" she exclaimed.

"Right…" Snape mocked.

He wasn't sure this could work at all considering the conditions. Alcohol prevented one from sorting and ordering one's thoughts. The memories she would put into that Pensieve - if she managed to put in any at all - would be messy at best. Putting only the one memory she wanted him to see would be quite an achievement, and Snape wouldn't be surprised to end in the middle of an odd assortment of irrelevant recollections.

"I can't guarantee any results," he concluded after a few seconds.

* * *

Coming Next: _Back in Time, part 1_


	26. Back in Time, part 1

**A/N**: I don't usually do this, but I'd like to address Kyer's review for last chapter. I'm afraid the lack of imagination is entirely mine: Transfiguration is a branch of magic I usually completely forget. But if you care to check, you'll see I edited chapter 25 to include your suggestion (even if I included it "my way" ;-). As a side note, I'd like to add that if any of you have suggestions about details that would help improve this story, I'd be more than happy to hear them and edit the story to hopefully make it better and/or more realistic.   
Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine. 

**CHAPTER 26  
BACK IN TIME (PART 1)**

Snape looked around warily, hoping he hadn't appeared in the middle of an all too private memory of Wilson's. He thankfully hadn't. He was in the middle of a restaurant where Wilson and Lupin were having dinner. They looked a few years younger - though it was hard to tell with Lupin.

Resigned to go through this - it wasn't as if he had much choice anyway - Snape crossed his arms over his chest and absentmindedly observed the brother and sister. They seemed to be having some kind of awkward conversation, with Lupin talking almost shyly and Wilson keeping an embarrassed silence, nodding every now and then. Both looked very tired.

While Lupin was in the middle of some unimportant sentence, Wilson suddenly blurted out: "I just had a job offer."

Lupin froze in surprise, his fork in mid-air. "That's great," he eventually said with a smile. "I knew you wouldn't remain unemployed very long after you left the Ministry's - "

"It's abroad. In Portugal," she interrupted uneasily.

"Oh. Portugal, eh?" Lupin replied as he put his fork down. "Last I heard your Portuguese wasn't exactly up to date," he joked in an obvious attempt to hide his discomfort.

This last sentence was followed by a nervous silence, both of them toying with their food.

"I'm leaving at the end of the week," Wilson announced solemnly, looking up to her brother to see his reaction.

Lupin's mitigated smile vanished. "At the end of the week? Why– why so soon? Why so suddenly?"

"Remus, I…" Wilson sighed heavily. "You can't expect me to stay here, in this house…" her voice trailed off. "I can barely stand to – "

"You can stay at my place if you wish," Lupin offered, "you know I don't mind."

"But I do," she countered. "I need to distance myself."

Lupin nodded sadly after a few seconds. "I understand. But if you ever need – "

The surroundings blurred around Snape and he found himself in another place, one he was quite familiar with: Hogwarts.

A young girl with brown hair - Wilson - was waiting anxiously outside the History of Magic classroom.

Snape took a peek through the open door and saw it was a seventh year lesson with Gryffindor and Slytherin. McGonagall was one step inside, telling Professor Binns she needed to talk to Lupin. Snape briefly saw his younger self taking a quick look over his shoulder before focusing on his studies, guessing easily what he had in mind that day - NEWTS.

Lupin followed McGonagall outside the classroom.

"Come with me; the Headmaster would like to talk to you two," the witch ordered.

Snape followed as Lupin and Wilson walked behind McGonagall, his curiosity aroused. Lupin cast a questioning look towards his sister, and the young girl shrugged, obviously at a total loss.

Snape's surroundings blurred again - talk about the ill effects of alcohol - and Hogwart's stone walls were soon replaced by the warm and cosy environment of a house.

It seemed he was back to a memory closer to present since he immediately spotted an adult Wilson. She was waiting outside what seemed to be a child's room. A few seconds later, a young man Snape instantly identified as Jonathan Wilson stepped out of the room backwards and closed the door silently.

"Can we pick up our conversation where we left it?" the witch said in a low voice.

Jonathan Wilson sighed softly. "Endora, I know you're concerned, but – "

"Of course I'm concerned," she whispered back. "I've been concerned since day one. Look, Jonathan, I know you love your job, and I understand why this is so important to you. But it's no longer just the two of us, and it's getting way too dangerous."

"Endora, I…" Jonathan Wilson sighed again. "I can't give up now. I'm… I'm _this close_," he said, raising his hand and placing his index and his thumb an inch apart. "Just a few more months."

"That's what you told me a year ago," the witch retorted.

"In a few months, I'll be done with it. I promise. Only a few months," he insisted.

"A few months?" Wilson asked, undecided.

"A few months," the wizard confirmed. "I promise."

Wilson nodded slowly. "All right," she said sadly, stepping forward to allow her husband to take her in his arms.

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed impatiently, hoping to jump to the next memory soon and wishing it to be the one he was there for at last.

If his first wish was granted soon - his surroundings blurred again until the house was replaced by another - his second wasn't.

Snape was now in another house, at night. Once he got used to the obscuring darkness, he managed to make out the silhouette of a young child advancing silently in the dark. Certainly Wilson - this was one of her memories after all, and the child seemed to be alone.

As she briefly stepped in a ray of moonlight, Snape managed to evaluate her age to four years old. The slightly mischievous smile on her face boded no good in Snape's opinion.

He followed her as she silently walked down a flight of stairs.

"Remus?" she called in a whisper. "Remus? I saw mom take you here tonight."

The stairs seemed to be leading to some kind of dark cellar. But why would their mother take her son to the cellar instead of his room? Snape suddenly wondered. And understood just as suddenly.

The moonlight. It was a full moon. Oh Merlin.

As he watched the little brown haired girl walking further down the stairs, calling her brother, Snape had a sudden vision of himself as a teenager, walking down a dark tunnel under the Whomping Willow. He followed her down the stairs somewhat anxiously.

The cellar was plunged in darkness. The child advanced slowly, groping her way along.

"Remus?" a shy voice called with a hint of fear. "Remus, is that you?"

Her question was followed by a loud and chilling growl. The next instant, an ear-splitting high-pitched scream resounded, the scream of a child scared to death and obviously sobbing at the same time. There was another menacing growl and the scream and sobs redoubled. Snape couldn't see what was going on but from the sound of it Wilson had stumbled backward.

A growing light appeared in the staircase as someone rushed down. It turned out to be a witch in a dressing gown, holding a lit wand in her hand.

Thanks to this new source of light, Snape managed to see a young wolf - or rather werewolf - all fangs out, restrained behind the bars of a large cage. As for the witch, she had knelt next to young Endora - who was still crying her eyes out.

"Oh my, Endora dear, you're wounded!" the witch exclaimed, sounding half panicked. Her eyes kept moving from the wolf in the cage to the little girl's arm - which was bleeding. "Did he bite you?" she asked anxiously.

Young Endora sniffed loudly and shook her head. The witch let go a sigh of relief and picked up the child in her arms.

"Mom, where's Remus?" the girl asked and sniffed again.

Snape caught the pained look on the witch's face as she walked past him, her daughter in her arms.

The dark cellar suddenly disappeared to be replaced by Hogwarts again. Snape recognised a hallway on the second floor. An eleven year old Wilson, dressed in her Ravenclaw uniform and holding a couple of books in her arms, was talking to a seventh year Lupin. Snape scowled when he spotted James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew standing next to their friend.

"But mom said – " the girl began.

"I know what mom said," Lupin interrupted, "but I can't always – "

He was cut short when someone jostled his sister. A seventeen years old Severus Snape, as a matter of fact, hanging with a couple of other Slytherins: Avery, Rosier and Wilkes. Oh yes, Snape remembered that day, it had ended in a pretty nasty way, he recalled with an evil smirk.

"Hey, watch where you're going, Snivellus," Black called out.

The group of Slytherins instantly stopped walking and turned to the group of Gryffindors.

"Am I dreaming? Did you just manage to form a coherent sentence, Black?" teenage Snape asked. "It will take you days to recover from the effort."

The other Slytherins sniggered. Black glared at him for a long moment before taking his wand out in a swift movement. But Snape had anticipated his move and had drawn his own wand at the same time. In a few seconds all eight of them had their wands in their hands, just like a chain reaction, each trying to support their own clan.

Wilson looked a bit lost in the middle of all this mess. When young Severus Snape turned a menacing glare towards her, she instantly recoiled behind her older brother with a look of fear.

Adult Snape smirked with satisfaction, while Lupin put a protecting arm in front of his sister.

Just as things were about to get interesting, Snape's surroundings blurred once more and he soon found himself in the hall of a house.

There was an approximately three year old girl walking down the steps of a wooden staircase, dragging a worn stuffed animal behind her. As she was about to step on the landing, the entrance door burst open.

A man rushed in, carrying a roughly ten year old boy in his arms. The boy was unconscious and breathing loudly, looking seriously wounded. Snape soon identified the boy as Lupin.

"Angerona!" the man called. "ANGIE!"

A woman hurried in the hall, half panicking at the sight of the wounded boy. "Remus! Oh dear… What happened?" she asked frantically.

"I'm not sure; I found him like that down the street," the man replied hurriedly. "What the hell was he doing out there so late at night?" he wondered out loud before asking suddenly: "Can you heal him?"

The woman took a wand out of her pocket and examined the boy. "These are bites," she remarked with a frown.

"Yeah, I think I saw some kind of dog running away when I arrived," the man replied. "Or it could have been a wolf, I can't tell exactly."

"A wolf?" the witch asked for confirmation with a terrified expression on her face. "But tonight's a full moon…"

"The full moon? And what - wait, you mean… they exist?" the man asked incredulously.

"Of course they exist!" the witch exclaimed. "We have to take him to St Mungo immediately! Come, we'd better use the floo network!" she added quickly as she moved away.

"I'm still not very comfortable using it," the man said.

"We'll go together! Come on, quick!" the witch hurried him.

A few seconds later all three of them had disappeared in the chimney with a loud pop. All that was left was a three year old girl, dragging a worn stuffed animal behind her as she sucked her thumb, standing alone in the middle of the hall and looking as if she hadn't understood anything of what had just happened.

Another second later the witch reappeared in the chimney and ran towards the child.

"By Merlin's beard, Endora, I almost forgot you!" she apologised and quickly picked up the girl in her arms before heading for the chimney again.

The house disappeared in a blur and Snape blinked, blinded by the sudden daylight. He sighed with exasperation. When was this supposed to be over, exactly? If at least it was any fun…

He looked around. He was standing in a well kept garden. The sun was shining brightly - it was probably the summer. At his feet, a seven or eight year old Wilson was playing with a girl her age.

Oh great. He would really have missed this if it hadn't been one of these wonderful memories he had been allowed to live.

As he turned round to vent his frustration, he noticed a group of teenagers sitting in a circle at the other side of the garden. Four boys. Namely Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.

Now _that_ could be interesting…

Snape walked to where the boys were sitting. In the middle of the circle they were forming was a strange-looking piece of parchment. It seemed to be some kind of map.

"Now that's the tricky part," Black said.

"We could go to my place tonight. My parents have plenty of books about Charms, I'm sure we could find something," Potter offered.

Lupin shook his head. "I won't be allowed to. Tomorrow's a full moon, and you know how my mom is, she won't let me out tonight."

The three other boys nodded knowingly.

"Come on guys, it can't be that hard to Charm a piece of parchment to remain blank until a trigger sentence is said out loud!" Potter exclaimed.

"Until we find out how to do it, we can still decide on the trigger sentence!" Pettigrew suggested joyfully.

The others nodded. While they began to scratch their brains, Snape bent over the piece of parchment. The map seemed to represent Hogwarts, and there were dots moving on the surface. Snape was strangely reminded of the piece of parchment he had confiscated from Harry Potter a few years before, with these four nicknames insulting him.

It was the same one, he just _knew_ it. He had known back then that there was more to it… So Potter had a magic map of the school, eh?

"What's that?"

Snape jumped when he heard Wilson's light voice. None of the boys had heard the girl coming, and Potter quickly snatched the piece of parchment.

"That's none of your business," Lupin retorted coldly.

"It looked like a map," the girl insisted. "What are you trying to do with it?"

Lupin sighed. "We're trying to make it invisible so that nosy people like you won't get to read it."

"I'm not nosy!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"Oh, so you're not the one who keeps stealing my books, uh?" Lupin replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Young Endora Lupin hesitated and then pouted. "I'm only borrowing them!" She paused and looked at the spot where the map had been a few seconds before. "Why don't you try this Delusionment thing they talked about at the magizoo?"

"Well first, it's called Disillusionment," Lupin observed rather harshly. "Second, it's stupid. The Disillusionment Charm only works on living creatures. And what did you come over here for, anyway?"

The girl glared at her brother angrily. "Mom wants you to know the snacks are ready," she said coldly before turning round and walking away.

"I'm sorry about this guys, she can be such a pain…" Lupin apologised to his friends.

"Want to swap for Regulus?" Black offered ironically. "I would. Any time."

"Hey, we still have to find this trigger sentence," Pettigrew reminded.

"Ok, what about 'I solemnly swear – '" Potter began but Snape would never know what he was about to suggest for the sunny garden was replaced by the entrance to a house.

Damn it. As if going through these stupid memories wasn't boring enough. No, he also had to miss all the parts where he could actually learn something useful, like the trigger sentence to this map.

Snape looked around with a sigh. Quiet neighbourhood. The sun was down and an adult Wilson - looking a couple of years younger - was standing in a porch, yawning and stretching. As she was about to lay her hand on the handle, a green light flashed through the nearby window.

Wilson froze and tensed visibly - as did Snape. He had the odd feeling this was it at last. He had to pay close attention now.

* * *

Coming Next: _Back in Time, part 2_


	27. Back in Time, part 2

**A/N**: The concept of the size of a memory in a Pensieve being driven by subconscious emotional attachment is directly quoted from a poster on the HPFGU Yahoo group, though I can't remember his/her screenname. If any of you do, please let me know so I can give proper credit.  
Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 27  
BACK IN TIME (PART 2)**

Wilson took her wand out and pulled on the handle cautiously. She walked in silently. Snape followed. She stepped forward slowly, her wand up and ready to shoot. The house was completely silent. Oddly silent even.

When Wilson took a turn in the hallway, she suddenly froze at a doorstep, a look of shock and confusion on her face. Her wand arm fell limply to her side. Her gaze was locked to a spot on the ground.

Snape caught up with her. Inside the room were two bodies laying lifeless on the ground. A man - Jonathan Wilson - and a young boy - two or three years old. Snape got round Wilson and stepped in to take a closer look. As he did so, his attention was caught by a dark silhouette hiding behind the wall, unbeknown to Wilson.

Judging from the build it was a man. He was in full Death Eater gear, his face concealed behind a mask. He was holding his wand tightly and observing the doorstep closely, obviously aware of Wilson's presence. And in the meantime, Wilson was standing only a few inches away, immobile, with her wand down, still staring at the ground.

How idiotic could she be? Snape wondered. She had seen the green light, she _had_ to know the murderer was still around!

She eventually took a step forward. The Death Eater chose that moment to walk out of his hiding place and point his wand straight at Wilson.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" he cried, but Wilson had enough sense to whirl behind the wall before the spell was cast.

A green light shot through the open door and crashed on the opposite wall.

The next second Wilson reappeared in the doorframe. "_Expelliarmus_!" she shouted.

The Death Eater's wand escaped his hand and flew to Wilson's. Just as the witch caught it, the Death Eater swiftly took a second one out of his pocket.

"_Repulso_!" he cast wildly. Wilson was hit full blast by the curse. She flew backward and crashed into the opposite wall.

Of course, Snape thought. Many Death Eaters always carried a spare wand, just in case.

The Death Eater took this opportunity to run for the way out. But before he was gone Wilson managed to pull herself together and to pick up the wand lying next to her.

"_Impedimenta_!" she exclaimed, stretching her arm towards the fleeing Death Eater.

A blinding white light erupted from the tip of the wand, so bright that even Snape had to close his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them again, Wilson was still lying on the ground, her eyes closed, and the Death Eater was gone. The spell had backfired.

Oh yes, Snape remembered. There were a few Death Eaters who liked to Charm their wands so that no one could use them beside themselves. And in her haste Wilson had picked up the Death Eater's wand instead of hers.

At least this piece of information could narrow down the range of his investigation…

But why didn't Wilson move yet? Why didn't she stand up? Snape wondered. He walked closer to where she was lying. She seemed to be hurt, for her face was contorted with pain. She rubbed her still closed eyes with the back of her hand, muttering nasty curses under her breath.

Snape took a closer look, and eventually noticed something odd: a few tears of blood at the corner of her eyes. He suddenly understood: a backfire curse, set by the Death Eater. She was blind - quite literally.

His deduction was confirmed when Wilson began to crawl across the hallway, keeping her eyes closed and feeling her way around.

A blinding backfire curse… Very, very bright. And quite efficient. And above all, extremely devious… Yes, definitely Lucius' doing, Snape concluded. Malfoy had always been quite a short tempered wizard, especially where Muggle-borns were concerned. It kind of made sense he would be the one to lose patience under Jonathan Wilson's thorough investigation…

"Jonathan?"

Snape turned at the sound of Wilson's weak voice and found she had managed to find her way to her late husband. She had bent over him, her eyes still closed, and was clumsily checking for his vitals. When she understood there was no hope, she burst into tears, overcome with grief, before straightening suddenly a few seconds later.

"Stephen?" she called softly. "Stephen, sweetheart, come on… Tell mommy you're all right," she said with a sob in her voice as she began to crawl towards where her son was.

Once she found him, she picked up the boy in her arms, checking his pulse as she had done with his father. Her sobs redoubled as she hugged the child tightly, rocking him back and forth.

Snape sighed. Why was he still in there? he wondered. He had already seen everything he needed to in order to identify the murderer. The Death Eater was now gone. So why wasn't he emerging out of the Pensieve? Had Wilson put in more memory than was necessary? Apart from the few irrelevant souvenirs he had already seen…

Damn Firewhiskey.

But he knew that even if it was intellect that drove the selection of a memory, it was subconscious emotional attachment to the event that drove the size of the memory.

Wilson slowly and carefully put the child back on the ground, still shaken and crying, before starting to crawl again.

All right, where was she going, now? Looked like she was heading for the chimney.

Once there, she fumbled about and eventually managed to knock a pot over. The powder it contained spread over the ground - floo powder as far as Snape could tell. Wilson took a handful and threw it in the chimney while muttering something - certainly a name or a place.

The witch cursed when nothing happened. Of course nothing happened, no part of her body was in the fireplace, not even her head - even though it was probably hard for her to tell where she was standing exactly.

Wilson picked another handful of floo powder and readjusted her position. During split seconds flames lit the chimney, but no floo connexion was established - she was still out of the fire. She tried again and again, concluding each failed attempt with a curse.

As she was obviously about to give up, a familiar face appeared in the flames at her last attempt.

"Hum, hello?" The voice was uncertain.

"Remus? Remus, is that you?" Wilson asked hopefully.

Lupin looked down and eventually saw the witch. "Endora? Yes that's me, did you try to floo here? I noticed something weird going on with the fire, so I took a chance…"

"Yes I tried to, I… Oh Merlin…" She started crying again. "I arrived too late, I… I tried to stop him, but he managed to leave and now they're both gone…" she finished sadly.

"What are you talking about?" Lupin asked, totally confused. "Endora, I didn't understand a single word! And what the hell are you doing on the ground?"

"I didn't know who to call, I, I…" she stuttered between two sobs. "I don't know what to do, Remus…"

Lupin now looked positively concerned. "All right, don't move!" he instructed. "I'll be there in a second!"

Lupin's face disappeared from the fireplace while Snape sighed with exasperation. He had already lost enough time as it was. Now all he wanted was get out of there, tell Wilson it was Malfoy all along, and be done with it at last.

He could just leave the Pensieve right now. But there was still the slight possibility that Malfoy would come back… So Snape decided to stay, just a little longer, to confirm his thoughts if he had the opportunity.

Lupin flooed over and immediately stepped out of the fireplace to help Wilson up. "Endora, what's going on?" He suddenly frowned. "And what happened to your eyes?" he asked, putting a hand on each side of her face to examine her more closely.

Wilson shrugged his hands off. "I used his wand, it backfired," she replied with a sniff.

"Whose wand?" Lupin queried at a total loss.

"I don't know!" Wilson started sobbing again. "I don't know…"

Snape suddenly wondered how she would react when she would learn it had been Malfoy. Malfoy was the kind of wizard you didn't want to have a grudge against. Even if Malfoy was now wanted by the Ministry and on the loose, he was powerful and still had a lot of influence in the Wizarding World.

"Endora! Endora, please, calm down!" Lupin tried to reason, holding his sister by the shoulders. "What happened? Where are Jonathan and Stephen?"

This was exactly what he should _not_ have said to help her calm down. "Over there," she managed to articulate with a nod towards where the two bodies were.

Lupin turned and blanched when he spotted them. He immediately left his sister's side and hurried towards his stepbrother and nephew.

What exactly would Wilson get from knowing the murderer's identity apart from being able to put a face on a masked silhouette? Snape kept wondering. What would she want to do, to go on a personal vendetta against Malfoy? Not that he cared - neither for Malfoy nor for Wilson. But since she had no way to reach Malfoy Senior, would she get carried away with his son that she had to see several times a week?

"I could have come home earlier," Wilson explained sorrowfully while Lupin was checking the man's and the boy's vitals. "I wanted to finish something, you know how I can get… And when I came back…" She didn't finish her sentence.

Lupin looked totally horrified when he came back to her. "Did you see who did this?" he asked earnestly.

She shrugged. "He was wearing a Death Eater mask… I almost stopped him… Remus, I almost did…"

Lupin took his sister in his arms when she started crying once more. He himself seemed to be on the verge of tears, but was fighting them back hard.

Good. All Snape needed was two whiners on his hands. And _why_ hadn't he left already?

"What am I supposed to do now?" Wilson sobbed.

Lupin seemed unable to give her any answer. Snape couldn't help a snort. Lupin had never been of the decision-maker kind, why would that change in a situation of crisis?

Wilson suddenly took a step away from her brother and started to talk at a frantic speed. "We should… We should get in touch with the Ministry, contact the Aurors, tell them there's a Death Eater in the neighbourhood, they can probably still catch him…"

"Endora, he probably disapparated as soon as he was out…" Lupin countered, trying to stop Wilson from using the floo on her own. "With the security Charms you put in place, we would have been able to trace him if he had disapparated from inside the house, but now … He's gone…"

"We should still warn them!" the witch insisted.

"Of course," Lupin agreed. "But I'm taking you to St Mungo first."

"Remus, I'm fine!" Wilson exclaimed angrily.

"No you're not!" Lupin retorted firmly. "You can't take a single step without feeling your way around! I'm taking you to St Mungo."

"But what about – " she began.

"I'm taking you to St Mungo," Lupin repeated determinedly. "You need to be healed, and you're too confused to handle anything. I'll take care of everything while you're there. I'll warn the Ministry. Come on," he concluded as he guided her towards the fireplace.

Just as they flooed together, the vision stopped, and Snape found himself back in the Potions classroom. Wilson was still sitting in front of him, and the Pensieve was still on the table between the two of them. The only difference was that the bottle of Firewhiskey was now empty.

"Took you an awful lot of time," Wilson complained while she began retrieving her memories from the Pensieve.

"Had you been sober enough it might have taken only a minute," Snape retorted bitterly.

Wilson frowned. "What do you mean?"

Snape sighed. "Never mind." She probably didn't want to know she had shared more than one memory, seeing who hesitant she had been to allow him to see only one.

"So?" she went on. "Any interesting clue?" she asked hopefully.

As Snape was about to tell her he had managed to discover the identity of the murderer, he suddenly hesitated. What good could come from this? Lucius Malfoy, of all people… Might as well tell her the Dark Lord himself had killed her family.

He could tell her about Malfoy. But somehow, after sharing these memories, he couldn't see her react coolly, replying 'oh, fine, thanks' before moving on to something else. Oh no. He could see revenge coming all the way.

So he lied, and shook his head lightly.

Wilson nodded slowly, looking very disappointed. "Ok… I guess I'll never know then…" she muttered sadly. "Thanks for trying anyway," she added. She was now on the verge of tears. "It's getting late, I'd better go," she concluded quickly before leaving hurriedly.

It was only the next day, a Sunday, when Wilson didn't come to the Potions classroom to work on the cure that Snape gave it more thought. And he realised that, considering the Ministry had stopped investigating years ago, this had probably been Wilson's last chance to find out the identity of her family's murderer.

* * *

Coming Next: _In the Teacher's Lounge_


	28. In the Teachers' Lounge

**A/N**: This chapter is the chapter I'm the least fond of. Just so you know.  
Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 28  
IN THE TEACHER'S LOUNGE**

"We're not getting anywhere."

Snape looked up and sighed at the sight of Wilson crossing her arms across her chest. They had never talked about the memories in the Pensieve again and had resumed their work as if nothing happened. Snape suspected burying herself in her work was Wilson's way to cope with problems, but he never commented. It was now almost the end of April, and they still hadn't succeeded in finding a cure for the Dormant Poison.

"We're advancing blindly," she remarked, "and actually I'm not sure we're advancing at all. We can't keep experimenting without focus."

Snape raised his eyebrows mockingly. "Well maybe _you_ have been experimenting without focus, but _I_ clearly haven't."

"What do you mean, that you knew exactly what you were doing?" Wilson asked.

"I only exploited the fact that three basic ingredients, rat tails, groundhog hair and Graphorn horn powder go into the making of every anti-poison potion," Snape clarified.

"You used these three ingredients in all the potions you made?" she repeated, looking surprised.

"One would think you would have noticed by now," Snape remarked bitterly, "seeing how we've been working on this project for over _two months_ now."

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" Wilson queried, looking as though she hadn't heard what he had just said.

"Because it is supposed to be a well-known fact," Snape retorted, "at least to people with some knowledge about potions."

Wilson looked positively excited - which meant she hadn't listened to what he had said. "Had I known I would have concentrated the charming on these ingredients!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "After some research I managed to bring the possible ways to charm an ingredient down to three… Are there any potions you think ought to have worked?"

Snape was greatly tempted to reply that _all_ the potions he had tried had had the potential to work, but it was wrong. While experimenting he had realised some of his mistakes. "The last four batches," he eventually replied truthfully.

"So we have three ways to charm three ingredients of four different potions," Wilson summed up. "That makes thirty six test potions to prepare."

Snape felt sick just thinking about the amount of work it represented.

"So now I can just - damn it was so obvious! It's bloody brilliant!"

Snape stared at Wilson with dismay as she started to scribble furiously on a piece of parchment. When she rolled up her sleeves Snape couldn't help but notice the long scars on her forearm. They looked just like marks left by claws. Certainly a werewolf's claws, Snape assumed, remembering one of the memories he had seen in the Pensieve.

He'd better start preparing the ingredients for his next thirty six potions, Snape thought unenthusiastically.

"You know, I was thinking…" Wilson began. "Maybe once we're done with this we could work on our respective projects together, what do you think?"

Snape thought about it for a second. He hadn't succeeded alone in his researches in years, might as well give it a try. "Why not," he replied with a shrug.

By the beginning of May a couple of weeks later, they had all thirty six experimental potions prepared and ready for the testing phase. It had been agreed that all potions would be tested on McGonagall, like all the previous ones had been. First, they couldn't reasonably test any on the children - not that Snape would mind - considering their parents were already furious enough as it was. Second, they all knew McGonagall would volunteer spontaneously if she weren't unconscious.

Dumbledore came to the Hospital Wing to see the result of their experimentations when he was informed they might be on to something. One of the nine potions from the first batch gave them some hope when McGonagall twisted in her dreamless sleep - indisputably an improvement.

Then came the second batch. After seeing the effects of the first one, they held high hopes for the potion whose ingredients had been charmed the same way as the one which had been slightly effective. After drinking some of this potion, McGonagall stirred a bit.

They were definitely on to something.

They continued with the third batch, still waiting eagerly for the one potion charmed the same way as the two others. This one didn't seem to have any effect at all. Slightly disappointed, they proceeded with the next potion.

But as they were about to test the next one, Professor McGonagall suddenly opened her eyes and eyed suspiciously the flask dangerously nearing her lips. Snape almost dropped the flask out of surprise.

"Minerva," Dumbledore greeted with a broad smile, "glad to see you're recovering at last."

McGonagall looked confused for a few seconds but eventually smiled back.

Dumbledore then turned to Snape and Wilson. "I am extremely proud of the two of you. Finding a cure to one of the most potent Dark Arts poison is no small achievement. It could be worthy of an Order of Merlin, maybe even first class."

Severus Snape, Order of Merlin, first class… Snape gloated inwardly just thinking about it… until he realised his name would be associated to Wilson's until the end of times…

Absolutely brilliant.

During the next weeks, he and Wilson proceeded to prepare the cure in gargantuan proportions so as to heal the fifty odd students ailed by the poison. By the time mid-May came, everyone was restored to health, except a couple of students who would have to remain a little longer in the Hospital Wing, just long enough for their warts to disappear - you couldn't always avoid side effects. Even in the students treated at St Mungo - a batch of the potion had been sent to the Hospital.

As soon as everyone was up and about again, Dumbledore decided to hold a celebration banquet the next evening and to cancel lessons the following day.

The Headmaster stood up at the beginning of the dinner. "Ladies, Gentlemen, students and colleagues," he said. "You certainly all know now the Dormant Poison has been vanquished."

The whole Great Hall cheered loudly, except a small pack of Slytherin students, Snape noticed, including Draco Malfoy.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "I'd like to thank our Charms and Potions Masters, who are the ones who found the cure."

More cheers erupted from the Great Hall. Snape snorted. It would take him months - no, years - to repair the damage caused to his image.

"While tonight we will celebrate and rejoice," Dumbledore went on when the cheers subsided, "I must remind you that all danger is not gone. Hogwarts is still under the threat of an attack. So I would like all of you to remain vigilant." He paused. "But tonight is not the night to worry about all this."

The Headmaster clapped his hands and all kinds of meals appeared on the tables. Everyone began to eat heartily.

A few minutes later, Snape noticed Dumbledore bending to one side and saying something in the ear of the teacher sitting next to him, then bending to the other side. Each teacher transmitted the message to his other neighbour.

Professor Sprout bent towards Snape at last. "Teachers' party in the teachers' lounge after dinner."

Snape nodded and resumed eating - he had no neighbour to pass the information to. Teachers' parties were quite rare events. They usually celebrated important occasions, like the Dark Lord's downfall sixteen years before, or symbolic birthdays like McGonagall's seventies several years before.

A few hours later, Snape joined the rest of the staff in the teachers' lounge. He wasn't very keen on these kinds of celebrations - nor was he keen on any kind of social event actually - but they usually had the advantage of being supplied with a decent amount of alcohol. And this one was no exception to the rule.

There were several talks this evening. Some serious, some lighter, and all in all it was a pleasant evening.

Professor Trelawney was the first to leave, barely half an hour after the celebration began, pretending it was all perturbing her inner eye. Hagrid soon followed, explaining his pet creature of the moment - Snape didn't even want to know what it was - required his full attention.

Dumbledore was the next to leave, much later though, claiming he was getting too old for this - such a bad excuse, really. McGonagall followed shortly. She was still recuperating and didn't think it would be reasonable to stay up so late.

An hour later, Professors Sprout and Vector excused themselves. There might be a celebration, but they were still both on a night watch.

As Snape was about to leave as well, having already drank quite a lot, Hooch spoke up.

"Ah, alone at last!" she exclaimed. "It's now that the real party begins! Give way to the younger generation!"

Snape gave a look around and noticed that, indeed, only the younger staff members remained: Hooch, Wilson, Ursaglow, Sinistra, and himself.

"Just give me a couple of minutes and I'll be back with proper drinks," Hooch continued. A few seconds later she disappeared through the door.

"Does anyone know what she means by 'real party' and 'proper drinks'?" Wilson asked with uncertainty.

"Well, every time Hooch goes on holidays to the Muggle countryside with her husband, she likes to try the local alcohols and bring some of each back," Sinistra explained. "She's some kind of a collector, if you will. And she loves to show us her discoveries during our celebration parties. But be careful though, I'm sure some of this stuff is so strong it can actually make you blind," Sinistra assured them.

Snape nodded knowingly. The last time Hooch had shared her collection with them - almost ten years before already - McGonagall had ended up singing carols right outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Flitwick had ended up trapped somewhere in the dungeons without his wand, and Snape would rather forget what _he_ had ended up doing that night - pink definitely wasn't his colour.

He gave a look around, and seeing as how they were all already slightly tipsy, this evening would probably be just as entertaining as the last.

Sinistra had a kind of resigned look on her face - like him she knew the threat these drinks represented, but wouldn't miss it for anything in the world. Wilson, after Sinistra's warning, looked rather cautious. As for Ursaglow - who had been unusually silent the whole evening - he seemed rather enthusiastic - one could wonder what _didn't_ make this man enthusiastic.

Hooch came back, a dozen of bottles floating around her and a huge smile illuminating her face. She laid the bottles on the central table and began to pour the contents of one of them in everyone's glass.

"This one comes from Ireland," she explained, "from a small village near Galway."

Snape lifted his glass to his nose: it smelled strongly of alcohol. He drank it in one gulp, and felt every single drop burn every single square inch of his throat. Wilson coughed loudly after drinking her own glass, Sinistra made a face, and Ursaglow paled abruptly, looking rather sick.

As for Hooch, she was just smiling. "Quite something, eh?" she exclaimed. "But wait until you try this one!" she continued as she grabbed another bottle. "It comes from the south of Spain. Quite tasty I must say."

This one went down much more easily than the first one, and all seemed to enjoy it. Even Snape felt a kind of urge to smile.

"It tastes kind of fruity," Wilson commented.

"Yes, they add some local fruit to the alcohol," Hooch confirmed. "And I personally added a drop of Jubilation Potion just for the fun of it."

Well this explained the urge to smile, Snape concluded.

"Oh, let's try this one!" Hooch offered. "I found it somewhere in the Highlands."

This time all of them coughed loudly after the first sip at their glass, except Ursaglow who collapsed head first on the table. Sinistra and Wilson burst out laughing - ah, the joys of the Jubilation Potion - while Hooch didn't seem to even notice him.

"Hey, can I have more of the Spanish one?" Wilson asked.

"Sure," Hooch nodded, filling Wilson's glass. "There's also this rare one, coming from the Netherlands," she went on while filling the others' glasses with it.

Snape was beginning to feel rather dizzy, but in a good kind of way. After finishing her own glass, Wilson began to giggle. "Hey, what's wrong with him?" she asked, pointing at the still unconscious Ursaglow with an amused look.

"I think he's drunk," Sinistra replied, grabbing the edge of the table suddenly as if to help herself keep her balance.

"Ah, young people today can't stand alcohol any more," Hooch - who was getting quite tipsy herself - said with disappointment.

"Shouldn't we do something about him?" Wilson asked, still sounding a bit giggly.

"Anyone has some anti-hangover potion?" Hooch asked.

"I have some at the Potions lab," Snape replied, "but it sounds so far…"

"True," Hooch agreed. "What about lots of water? Should work too. Anyone has lots of water handy?"

Sinistra shook her head, Wilson giggled, and Snape shrugged.

"There's the lake," Wilson eventually offered. "But it sounds awfully far too."

"Oh yes, let's throw him in the lake!" Hooch exclaimed enthusiastically. "Should be a lot of fun too!"

"That's dangerous, he could get caught by the giant squid!" Sinistra protested - she was obviously the soberest of the lot.

"Would be a pity, really," Snape commented sarcastically.

"And considering all the alcohol he's absorbed, I'm not even sure he'll float," Sinistra contested - maybe she wasn't the soberest of them after all.

"Well there's only one way to find out," Wilson retorted with a giggle, exchanging a mischievous look with Hooch.

The two of them suddenly stood up and grabbed Ursaglow's arms and legs in an attempt to carry him.

"Damn he's heavy," Hooch complained. "Hey Severus, why don't you come help us?"

Ursaglow drowning in the lake… Could be fun, Snape decided, and stood up to help them.

"This is a bad idea," Sinistra objected, standing up a bit too fast and quickly grabbing the edge of the table for support.

None of the others paid any attention to her and began carrying Ursaglow outside, all of them forgetting they were witches and wizards owning wands that could be quite useful for the task at hand.

All along the way Sinistra protested vehemently, until Ursaglow landed in the lake with a splash. The young wizard regained consciousness as suddenly as he became soaking wet. He stood up drowsily, shouting all sorts of curses at his fellow teachers when he fully realised his state and location.

Hooch and Wilson were both laughing loudly - even if Wilson's laugh sounded more like a giggle than anything. And even Sinistra and Snape were smiling.

Ursaglow looked downright furious. He kept cursing at them a few more minutes - which only fuelled his co-workers' amusement. Seeing it was obviously no use, he cursed another time before stepping out of the lake at last. He took only a few steps forward before stumbling and falling to the ground. If falling in the lake had helped him regain consciousness, it hadn't helped him sober up entirely.

"We'd better take him back to the castle," Sinistra said. She was definitely the most clear-headed of them all. "Endora, you'll help me carry him back there."

"What? Why me?" Wilson complained. "He's been stalking me for months, I deserve a break!"

"Because I don't trust the two of them," Sinistra replied indicating Snape and Hooch, "to be very helpful."

"And you really think I would?" Wilson asked with a giggle.

"Of course," Sinistra retorted, "you drank too much Jubilation Potion. Come on, let's go."

Wilson complied with a giggly pout and both carried Ursaglow away on their shoulders.

Once they had managed to stumble far enough, Hooch turned to Snape with a grin, an eyebrow raised rather suggestively. "So, alone at last, Severus?"

* * *

Coming Next: _Aftermath_


	29. Aftermath

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 29  
AFTERMATH**

Snape groaned when he opened his eyes slowly. He was lying on his side in his bed, and while it was still quite dark he could see the sun breaking through the curtains. His memories of the end of the last night were quite foggy - this was the last time he accepted any kind of beverage from Hooch - and his head ached like it rarely had.

Thankfully he had somehow found the way back to his bed - collapsing in the middle of a hallway where any student could see him wouldn't have done any good to his image.

Hearing a sudden suspect noise behind him, Snape shot his hand towards his night table in a defensive reflex. As he was about to grasp his wand, he felt an arm slowly wrapping around his waist in a fashion that was all but menacing. He remained still as he felt silent hot breaths against the back of his neck.

Oh damn.

His hand still stretched towards the night table, he took a quick look down at the arm. He couldn't help but notice the claws scars on the forearm.

Oh damn oh damn oh damn.

He withdrew his hand at last and took a tentative look above his shoulder. Lying behind him was the Charms teacher - and a very naked one at that - snuggled against his back and looking fast asleep.

OH DAMN!

This was even worse than dying his hair pink.

Careful to move slowly and silently - all he needed now was to wake her up - Snape lifted her arm out of his way and stepped out of his bed. He gave her a cautious look: she was still sleeping.

He hurried to the bathroom, picking up his scattered clothes and robes on his way and stepping over Wilson's.

How _exactly_ had he ended in this situation? he wondered as he closed the bathroom door behind him. He remembered quite clearly being by the lake with one drunk Hooch - and it was a wonder he hadn't finished in bed with _her_ seeing how provocative she had begun to be that night. Wait a second, he hadn't checked for any other person in his room, he suddenly thought with mild panic. Oh well, it couldn't really get _that_ much worse anyway…

After thinking hard for several seconds, he remembered going back to the castle and finding Sinistra and Wilson searching his potion lab for an anti-hangover potion. He also kind of remembered him and Wilson going up the stairs leading directly from his potion lab to his rooms at some point - though the why was still a mystery.

He vaguely remembered Wilson going to the window and asking how they could be on the fourth floor since they went up only one flight stairs. Snape wasn't sure what was the worst, the fact that he had answered lamely "it's magic" or the fact that Wilson had giggled idiotically at his answer.

Snape stepped in the shower and banged his head on the wall, setting the water on as cold as he could. He had enough flashes of the remaining of the night to know what had happened beyond this point - not to mention the scratch marks on the back of his shoulders, as he had noticed in the mirror with an involuntary smirk. Well, it had sounded like a fun thing to do back then - back when they were both so hopelessly drunk.

Snape watched as cold water ran down his arm to where his Dark Mark was tattooed on his forearm. When it came to women, there were usually two major reactions at the sight of his Mark: utter horror or utter fascination.

He had lost count of all the wicked witches he had met that would die for the thrill of a night with the bearer of such a mark. The Bad Boy Syndrome… Could be quite convenient at times. Could be rather depressing too, being sought only because of the presence of this mark on your forearm.

However, he hadn't lost count of the women falling in the other category, the horrified ones. One. Nashira Achernar, former Care to Magical Creatures some fifteen years before. She had noticed the Dark Mark only the next morning when waking up at his side - they hadn't really taken the time to count each other's freckles that night. Snape could still hear her screaming names at him with terror and disgust - mostly disgust at herself.

After this night, she had ignored him and then left her teaching position at the end of the year - even though he had no certainty that her leaving was motivated by this event.

Anyway, after his achievements of the previous night he would have to create a brand new "got drunk" category - even if a lot of the witches in the first category could also fall into this one. Or maybe he should just create one big "depressing relationship" category.

He sighed heavily. Did he _hate_ next mornings.

A couple of minutes later Snape left the bathroom carefully, still as silent as wizardly possible. He walked to the bedside table to retrieve his wand. He froze when Wilson stirred in her sleep, and quickly grabbed his wand when she remained still again.

Thank Merlin she was a heavy sleeper.

Snape gave a last look towards the sleeping form of Wilson before going down the stairs to his potions lab. He couldn't stay around, not even in his lab. He didn't want to be there when she woke up, and the first place she'd have to go through when leaving was his potions lab.

So he left for Hogsmeade, desperate to get far away from her for as long as possible - at least long enough for her to wake up and leave his room and his potions lab.

He spent most of the day walking through the Apothecary's shelves. He took the opportunity to replenish his supplies, quite impoverished by over two months of experimentation. He walked down Hogsmeade's streets, delaying his return to Hogwarts. But if classes had been cancelled for the day, Occlumency lessons hadn't and there was one that evening. He would have to go back some time soon.

Snape returned to the castle in the middle of the afternoon. He entered his potions lab cautiously, and when he saw it was empty he moved to his room. Thank goodness it was empty too. There was no sign of Wilson whatsoever.

He finally settled at his desk in his office to correct what were hopefully the last essays of the year. While working on the cure he had accumulated a lot of late work, and the pile of uncorrected essays was now reaching an indecent height.

After two hours of tedious work, he heard a light knock on the door and his visitor walked in without waiting for his answer.

Snape barely looked up from his desk for split seconds before returning to his work as if no one was there.

"Hey…" Wilson hailed softly on an almost questioning tone.

Snape gave her another quick look. She seemed extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed. He paid her no heed.

"Could we please talk?" she asked, barely audible.

He didn't look up from his desk. "We found a cure. Our business together is over. There's nothing to talk about."

Wilson remained silent for several seconds. When he briefly looked up again, Snape noticed she looked more and more embarrassed. She hadn't moved from the doorstep either.

"I… I was more thinking about talking about what happened last night," she said hesitantly.

"What do you want to talk about exactly? As far as I'm concerned, absolutely nothing happened last night," he retorted harshly.

His denial seemed to anger her. "Are you implying that I dreamt waking up alone in a foreign bed with one hell of a hangover?"

Snape didn't reply, trying to continue concentrating on his work while ignoring her.

Wilson eventually sighed heavily. "You know, I thought we were both adult enough to talk about it. I guess I was wrong." She turned round to leave.

"Oh fine!" Snape blurted out, slamming his hand on his desk. "We got drunk. We did something stupid. What other blatantly obvious fact do you want to state?"

She was fuming now, glaring at him with daggers in her eyes. "At least we agree on those points," she replied coldly.

"Anything to add?" he asked rudely.

"Apart from the fact that you're one bloody git?" she retorted provocatively.

"Yes," he replied, ignoring the insult.

"What about working on our projects together?" she asked, her tone softening a bit.

"Like I said previously," Snape began, "our business together is over."

"So I can forget about it?" she queried, certainly already knowing the answer.

"Absolutely," he confirmed.

"You do realise that separately we stand no – "

"I won't change my mind," he interrupted.

"Fine," she replied grimly, her tone betraying her anger.

"May I suggest that you leave, now?" Snape asked calmly.

"Sure," Wilson replied just as calmly. Despite her answer, she remained standing there for a few more seconds, still glaring at him furiously, before asking: "Do you ever deal with the consequences of what you do?"

Snape looked up with annoyance. "Yes," he retorted bitterly, rolling up his sleeve to show her his Dark Mark. "Every day."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," Wilson replied with a fake enthusiastic tone. She finally turned on her heels, muttering under her breath a word sounding suspiciously like 'jerk', and eventually slammed the door behind her.

On one hand, Snape was glad that she was gone and that this confrontation was over. On the other hand, he wasn't sure it had gone all that well. Losing the opportunity to work on his project with her was probably synonymous with never being successful in his research. But he couldn't work with her again. Not after…

Snape sighed heavily. He had this sort of aptitude to always spoil his life in the worst way possible. Oh well. This day couldn't get much worse anyway, even with Potter coming for his Occlumency lesson in barely an hour.

Snape would not realise how wrong he was before six more hours or so: his day was just about to get so much worse…

It all began roughly fifteen minutes after Wilson left his office. Someone knocked impatiently at his door and walked in hurriedly, stopping only once just in front of his desk.

Snape looked up, half expecting Wilson to have come back, and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy with distress all over his face.

"Draco?" he began. "What – "

"I need to talk to you, Professor," the seventh year Slytherin stated in a hurry. "And it can't really wait."

Snape was astounded by the look of acute despair in the boy's eyes. "Of course," he spoke softly. "What is it about?"

"I think I did something stupid," Malfoy replied quickly.

When Snape arched his eyebrows questioningly, Malfoy rolled up one of his sleeves to reveal a Dark Mark on his forearm.

* * *

A/N: If any of you predicted this would happen (the Snape&Wilson thing I mean), congrats. I kept debating about it with myself while writing the whole 28 previous chapters, and changed my mind over a dozen times. What decided me in the end: the fact that it would give Snape a way to _really_ annoy Lupin... eg 

Coming Next: _The Choices One Makes_


	30. The Choices One Makes

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 30  
THE CHOICES ONE MAKES**

Snape rested back in his armchair while Draco Malfoy kept pacing back and forth restlessly. The boy looked extremely nervous.

This was bad. This was very bad. Not only Malfoy bearing the Dark Mark, but also his coming to see _him_ for counsel. Draco certainly knew about his being a Death Eater, what with his close links with Malfoy Senior. But he wasn't supposed to know about his being a spy for the Order of the Phoenix.

So why come see _him_, looking panicked because he bore the Dark Mark? Could the boy have been sent to him by either the Dark Lord or his father as a spy? Or could he be genuinely concerned?

In any case, Snape would have to play a double game - something he was used to doing anyway. He couldn't risk blowing his cover if the boy was indeed sent to spy on him.

"Could you please calm down and tell me what the problem is exactly?" Snape asked.

"No, I can't bloody calm down!" Malfoy almost yelled. "And what do you think the problem is?"

"You weren't forced into this, were you?" Snape said softly, and watched Malfoy shake his head pitifully. "So what _is_ the problem, Draco? Being allowed to serve the Dark Lord should be considered an honour by his followers," Snape continued.

Always state general facts, never clearly voice one's opinion.

"But I didn't know…" the boy began. "Look, picking on mudbloods was fun, and all the side stuff like torture too. But I didn't think I would have to go that far!"

"Really?" Snape enquired on a sarcastic tone. "Did you think this was all just a game? How far are you willing to go for the Dark Lord?"

Malfoy looked down to his feet. "Crabbe and Goyle already got through the enthronement last week; they told me about it. I'll have to go through it soon too. And I can't do it," he finished, barely audible and sounding ashamed of himself.

The enthronement… So that was what was worrying Malfoy, was it? Or was he just pretending to not feel up to proving his eternal allegiance to the Dark Lord in the only way possible?

"This is how things go, Draco," Snape explained. "Kill _for_ the Dark Lord, or be killed _by_ the Dark Lord."

"I… I can't! I just can't!" Malfoy exclaimed.

Ah, of course… Playing the bully and tough guy was so easy to the spoilt and pampered boy as long as he had his personal bodyguards around him…

But that was not the way an enthronement to Death Eaters went. There was no one to back you up if something went wrong. There was no one to hold your wand towards your victim. There was no one to cast the Killing Curse for you. And deep down Draco Malfoy was too much of a coward to be up to it. And it seemed the boy was realising this a little too late…

"What do you expect from me exactly?" Snape asked. "Why come to me?"

"Because I need your help," Malfoy said piteously.

"Allow me to rephrase my question," Snape replied. "You know who and what I am," he said, knowing Malfoy would understand he was talking about his being a Death Eater, "so why me?"

"Who could I have gone to? My father maybe?" Draco suggested with a snort. "Right. I'm sure he'd love to learn I'm chickening out of this."

Snape nodded. Lucius might even volunteer to kill off his own son if he learnt about this.

"Or Dumbledore perhaps?" Malfoy continued. "So that this old fool would tssk me and throw his disappointment at me?"

"And you think _I_ would be more comprehensive than either of them?" Snape asked.

"You're my Head of House, I… I don't know, I thought…" Malfoy mumbled.

"Yes Draco, what did you think?" Snape queried. "That I would be more merciful? That I wouldn't hand you over to the Dark Lord?"

Malfoy suddenly looked mildly horrified, realising that Snape might well just do that.

Snape sighed heavily. "I am very disappointed in you, Draco," he said, not specifying whether it was because the boy now bore the Dark Mark or because he wanted out. "You are an intelligent young man, I had hoped you would have better judgement."

Malfoy looked down to his feet guiltily. Could he really want to get out of this?

"But you were right, I will not hand you to the Dark Lord," Snape continued. "Because I trust you will make the right decision in the end." Again, he didn't specify which decision he considered right.

Malfoy nodded slowly. Snape had a hard time deciding whether Malfoy was being honest or deceitful. If the boy had been sent there to spy on him, he was doing a very fine job. And if he hadn't…

Whatever Malfoy's true motivations were, there was only one thing Snape could tell him.

"You came asking for my help, so I will give you this piece of advice: you will do as you will be ordered," Snape stated. "First, because you chose this path. Second, because the only way out of the path you chose is death. The only thing you can influence is whose death it will be: yours or someone else's."

Malfoy shivered. He was a Slytherin; he would save his own neck. "I had hoped…"

"There's nothing I can do for you," Snape stated again. "If you want pity or warm comfort, you should try Dumbledore."

"I don't want anyone's pity!" Malfoy exclaimed irately.

"Then what are you still doing here?" Snape asked.

"I thought you were…" Malfoy began, and stopped abruptly when Snape raised his eyebrows questioningly. "I mean, after… After what you did…"

"And what did I do exactly?" Snape enquired.

"Well you… You warned everyone about that poison. And then you worked on the cure…" Malfoy explained.

So Malfoy believed him to be on the Order's side… He had better put him right before the boy told his father anything - if it wasn't already too late.

"Do you think Dumbledore wouldn't have been suspicious if I hadn't warned everyone, considering my skills? And do you think I had any choice about working on a cure?" Snape asked truthfully.

"I… I guess not…" Malfoy agreed. "I didn't tell anything to my father… I guess I was wrong anyway."

The look of disappointment on the boy's face surprised Snape. If Malfoy's intentions of quitting the Death Eaters were genuine, Snape had just led him to believe he had no ally… But he had no other choice. Keeping his cover was his first priority. Advising Malfoy to the best of his abilities came second. Not to mention there was nothing else he could advise him - if there was indeed a way out of this situation he would have used it himself long ago.

"Do you have any other request?" he asked softly.

"No," Malfoy replied under his breath. "I guess I'd better go."

Snape nodded and watched the boy walk away.

He was worried. He should go warn Dumbledore. Not only because of Draco - if only it was the only problem at hand - but rather because having several junior Death Eaters at Hogwarts wasn't exactly a very entertaining idea.

Crabbe and Goyle already, soon Malfoy… How many others? How many had already joined the Dark Lord's ranks? And how many would in the months or years to come? Nott maybe? Nott was a bright kid though. Even his Death Eater father knew better than to get too close to the Dark Lord.

He would have to warn Dumbledore about this - assuming the Headmaster didn't already know about it. Maybe the old wizard would be able to do something to help Draco as well, much like he had helped Snape himself many years before.

Draco Malfoy, ready to persecute and torture Muggle-borns, but failing to do the one thing his Master would ask from him…

Snape remembered very vividly his own enthronement to Death Eaters, some twenty years before. He had killed twice that day. He hadn't cared much about the first. But the second… It was this second kill that triggered his will to leave the Dark Lord's side - and his decision to never use the Killing Curse again.

In any case, he would have to wait before going to see the Headmaster. He had an Occlumency lesson to give in a few moments and Potter would be there soon. Had it been up to him Snape wouldn't have minded skipping that lesson. But he knew Dumbledore would think the news he would bring him could have waited a little longer, while he deemed the Occlumency lessons indispensable.

He would go after the Occlumency lesson.

Guessing he only had a few minutes left before Potter arrived, Snape stood up and headed for the cupboard where the Pensieve was still stored. Now that Potter managed to access his memories every once in a while, it had become an obligation to conscientiously put his most dangerous memories in the Pensieve.

While putting his usual set of memories in the magic container, Snape wondered if he should add some more, like his Death Eater enthronement for instance. He had never considered this specific memory to be harmful. Potter certainly expected him, a Death Eater, to have done things like this some time in his past, and stumbling upon that particular memory wouldn't come as a big revelation.

However, he decided he should _definitely_ add all the scattered memories he had from the previous evening and night. He certainly didn't want Potter to find out about that, be it the getting drunk part or the one right after that - especially the latter actually.

As he was doing so, Snape heard a knock, then the sound of the door being open and of someone stepping in silently.

"Close the door, Potter," he said absentmindedly while putting another thought in the shimmering bowl.

Snape kept going, putting memory after memory in the Pensieve. Meanwhile, he heard Potter walk up to him - the insolent boy had obviously disregarded his directive to close the door. Now done with the Pensieve, Snape sighed heavily and turned to face his student.

"Mister Potter, I thought I told you to – " He stopped dead in his tracks.

It wasn't Potter.

It was Ursaglow, standing a few steps from him with an unreadable expression on his face, and above all pointing a wand straight at his chest.

"_STUPEFY_!"

* * *

Coming Next: _In the Dark_


	31. In the Dark

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 31  
IN THE DARK**

Snape opened his eyes slowly. The light was too dim for him to see where he was. The only things he could tell were that his head was hurting like hell, his hands were bound together in front of him, and Ursaglow was a dead man.

How could he have let himself be fooled so easily, as if he were a beginner? By _Ursaglow_ of all people! Snape cursed a couple of times, but it didn't make him feel any better.

How much time had passed while he was unconscious? A few minutes? Several hours? A couple of days maybe? It was hard to tell. He was sitting on the ground in a dark room, with no window or opening on the outside, so he couldn't tell what time of the day it was.

While his eyes got used to the darkness, Snape tried to make out more of his surroundings. Bare stone walls. Rough floor. By the look and smell of it - foul air and a musty stench - it was some kind of a dungeon.

Where the hell had Ursaglow taken him?

Snape tested his restraints: metal chains, linked to the wall with approximately six yard long fetters. Even if his feet were free he wouldn't be able to go very far.

So he remained there, sitting still in the dark, not daring to even close his eyes, for several hours. He was beginning to wonder if anyone knew he was there when he heard the door click open. He was then blinded by the bright light of a lit wand. Snape quickly averted his eyes and frowned. The light moved inside and the door was closed an instant later.

"_Nox_," a male voice said quietly, and the room was dark again.

Snape could now feel a presence in the room, but his eyes were no longer used to the darkness and he couldn't make out any silhouette. It wasn't Ursaglow; he hadn't recognized his voice. Not to mention there was no way Ursaglow could give off so much power and charisma in the dark.

Who was it? Should he say something? No, better not. And what was the stranger doing? Was he examining him? Why did he remain silent? Snape suddenly stopped wondering who could be standing there at the stranger's next word.

"_Crucio_!"

Snape yelled under the violent pain. He knew that pain well… and who was dispensing it as well…

When the curse was lifted at last, the man began to speak. "It is useless to say I am extremely disappointed in you, Severus…"

Several seconds under the Cruciatus curse had left Snape breathless on the ground. "Master, I…"

"_Crucio_!" the Dark Lord exclaimed again with irritation, not restraining his fury a single second. "All these years, spying for Dumbledore! You must be a master at Occlumency to have managed to fool me all this time…"

When the pain subsided at last, Snape decided to stake everything. "My Lord, I don't know what you were told, but be assured that I am as faithful to you as ever."

Voldemort snorted. "Well that leaves me to wonder how faithful you've ever been…" He paused. "You were right about the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. He is a pathetic idiot. But an easily influenced one…"

Ursaglow? Ursaglow was a spy for the Dark Lord?

"Honestly Severus, you should have seen that coming," Voldemort teased. "He decided to join me for very much the same reasons than you did. An insecure young man, constantly rejected by others, looking for recognition by his peers…"

Snape closed his eyes. He remembered Ursaglow telling him he only wanted to be friends with him. He also remembered himself sending him packing over and over, quite violently. He recalled most of the other staff members rejecting the young wizard as well - politeness made it no less rejection.

"Not to mention his great potential," the Dark Lord continued.

Great Potential? Ursaglow? Were they talking about the same wizard?

"No need to be surprised, Severus, you saw the ceiling of Hogwart's Great Hall the day it bled…" Voldemort went on, probably with a smirk on his face.

What? It was Ursaglow who had managed that feat? How was this possible? Ursaglow always seemed so… pathetically hopeless! Well, he _had_ managed to get out of the battle with the giants totally uninjured…

"Easily influenced, powerful and a quick learner… That's the way I like my minions…" Voldemort mused. "As for you… tsk tsk… Your attitude upset me greatly, Severus. You never knew when to stop playing with fire…" His calm tone contrasted with his words. After a pause, Voldemort continued. "Do you realise that Ursaglow joined me almost as soon as I approached him last winter, after I discovered there was a spy among my Death Eaters? I asked him to try to get close to Wilson, in the hope she would reveal to him the identity of the Death Eater who saved her… But it seems you managed to get much closer to her than he ever did…"

Snape jumped at this mention. Could he know? Could he know about…

"Oh, did I mention that the bright kid took that Pensieve of yours with him when he brought you to me?" Voldemort kept teasing. "Well, these memories were… instructive to say the least. I had no idea you could be so… flexible…"

He was just trying to provoke him, Snape reasoned, to make him angry. He just wanted a reason to Crucio him again. He wouldn't give him this opportunity.

"My Lord," Snape began, "it was precisely because I thought I might be able to find out who had saved her that I – "

"SILENCE!"

Snape immediately shut up.

"Do you think I did not take the time to have a look at the other memories in the Pensieve, the ones that mattered?" the Dark Lord exclaimed, irate. "The ones in which you spoke with Dumbledore about helping to defeat me? How foolish of you to think you would manage to escape my wrath! _CRUCIO_!"

Snape writhed under the excruciating pain, letting go an involuntary shout. Voldemort didn't lift the curse before several long seconds.

"Did you think it was your sociability that drew Ursaglow to you after you rejected him so many times?" Voldemort enquired. "I asked him to keep an eye on you when I began to have suspicions. Then when the right time came, I asked him to bring you to me."

Snape felt the Dark Lord stepping closer to him.

"At least _he_ didn't fail me," Voldemort whispered in his ear.

Snape then felt him take a few steps back.

"You know," the Dark Lord began, "I wonder what would be the most suitable and worst fate for you: to have you endure the Cruciatus curse until you beg for mercy, or leave you to rot in this cell alone… Hmm… Probably a combination of both… _CRUCIO_!"

The intensity of the pain Snape experienced was like nothing he had ever known: it was like all the pains he had ever experienced combined together. The Dark Lord wasn't restraining his anger. He didn't care if it turned Snape into a useless minion - he already was one in his eyes.

When the pain stopped after what seemed like hours, there were small tears forming at the corner of Snape's eyes. It also seemed he had bitten his own tongue in his distress. Voldemort left silently as soon as he lifted the curse.

Snape turned his head to his side and spat some blood to the ground. Needless to say it was the worst situation he had ever been in, and he had been in some really bad ones. So to sum it up: he was being held prisoner by the Dark Lord, who had discovered he was a spy for Dumbledore, and there wasn't any chance that a member of the Order would know where he was.

And he had thought his day couldn't get any worse… If this wasn't a twisted way for fate to prove him wrong…

So Snape began to wait - as if he could do anything else. Wait for what he had no idea, since he fully expected to be left there to rot alone. When he felt tired, he slept, and when he felt hungry - which was beginning to be all the time now - he… well, he tried to think of something else, because there wasn't much to eat around.

The problem when you had nothing to do was that you had lots of time to think. And spending his time pondering over all the mistakes he had made in his life wasn't exactly Snape's favoured occupation.

As far as he could tell, several days passed by - his hunger increasing hour after hour - before someone came to his cell at last. Despite the sudden light, he quickly managed to recognise Crabbe, a fellow Death Eater he had known for years.

"Here's your meal for the week," Crabbe said spitefully as he put a plate down on the ground next to Snape.

"Looks appetizing," Snape commented sarcastically, even though he couldn't make out the plate's contents.

"Consider yourself lucky," Crabbe replied unconcerned. "If it were up to me you wouldn't get anything."

"I suppose inviting you to share this meal with me in memory of the good old days would be totally out of place, wouldn't it?" Snape questioned ironically. He didn't have anything to lose anyway.

This seemed to anger Crabbe, who took his wand out and pointed it towards Snape furiously. "Just give me one reason not to kill you right now…"

"Well, you're feeding me," Snape noted on a cocky tone. "Which means you want me alive."

After a second, Crabbe nodded. "True. The Dark Lord wants you alive for some special occasion."

"What occasion?" Snape asked.

"I wouldn't tell you even if I knew, you filthy traitor," Crabbe retorted with animosity and spat in Snape's face.

Snape waited until Crabbe was gone before wiping his face against his sleeve. This was getting just better and better.

Once he got used to the darkness again, he gave a look to the plate. The contents seemed to be cold, and it didn't look the least appetizing. It also seemed to be leftovers.

There was no way he would eat that, Snape thought with a sudden surge of pride, no matter how hungry he felt. So he took the decision not to touch any of this food. But having the plate right under his nose didn't really help…

After another day his resolution quavered, when he realised this was probably the only food he would ever get since Crabbe had said it was his food for the _week_. So he surrendered to his hunger, only to realise after finishing the disgusting contents of the plate that he still felt just as hungry.

After a couple of other days with no new sign from his captors, his hunger had become almost unbearable. He could barely think of anything else. His lips were now so dry from the lack of water they ached. One of his arms was getting numb from inactivity.

When he had lost all hope of seeing light again, after close to a week of imprisonment as far as he could tell, the door burst open and two Death Eaters entered. They freed him wordlessly and urged him harshly to a standing position. Snape was too weak physically to resist, and he let the Death Eaters lead him out of his cell.

After a few minutes walking through corridors, Snape was guided to a wide room where a circle of Death Eaters was waiting for him, the Dark Lord at their head.

Voldemort smirked evilly at his sight. "We can now go on with the last part of this ceremony," he said. "I don't usually hand my new followers their victims on a plate but… This is a special occasion, isn't it Severus? We have to deal with your treason, so why not kill two pixies with one curse?" Voldemort continued on an almost joking tone. "Step forward and reveal yourself to your victim," he then told to one of the masked figures of the circle.

The Death Eater took a step forward and turned to face Snape before taking his mask off. It was Draco Malfoy. Oh dear Merlin. This was Draco's enthronement, Snape realised. And he was the victim that had been chosen for the occasion…

"You know what you have to do," the Dark Lord told Malfoy. "Kill him. Now."

Snape suddenly remembered the advice he had given the boy: to do as he was ordered. And that was what Draco would do. He was a Slytherin, and in the end it was his own neck he would save.

Snape watched Draco lift his wand towards him, his eyes filled with indecision.

* * *

A/N: I had initially planned to make this chapter more gruesome to make it more realistic (imagine being traped in the same room for several days, I'll let your imagination fill in the gruesome blanks), but I chickened out and edited it. Just know that Snape's hands were initially bound behind his back (again, I'll let your imagination fill in the blanks). 

Coming Next: _A Wanted Offer_


	32. A Wanted Offer

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 32  
A WANTED OFFER**

Snape stared at Draco Malfoy. The boy was hesitating. How could he hesitate? He didn't have any choice if he wanted to live!

"What are you waiting for boy? Kill him!" the Dark Lord exclaimed angrily.

Snape nodded imperceptibly to Draco. Malfoy set his jaw firmly and tightened his grip on his wand.

"_Avada_ – " he began, but was interrupted by a loud noise: a group of wizards had just burst in. Snape immediately spotted Dumbledore, Moody, Shacklebolt, Tonks, Lupin and a couple of red-headed Weasleys among them.

During the next couple of awkward seconds, Snape saw an opportunity to escape from his captors. With a sudden surge of strength, he knocked over the Death Eater on his left and stole his wand, figuring quickly that this wizard wasn't subtle enough to have placed a backfire curse on it, before using his newly acquired wand to stupefy the Death Eater on his right.

During the chaos that ensued, with Aurors and other Order members fighting off Death Eaters, Snape did his best to make his way towards his rescuers. But they were clearly outnumbered by Death Eaters and they wouldn't manage to hold very long. A couple of Death Eaters were already Stupefied, but the others were fighting for the kill.

Voldemort shouted furious orders to his followers, but Snape was too focused on trying to escape to really listen to what he was saying, advancing almost at random in the middle of the growing mess.

As Snape had almost managed to reach his allies, Fawkes appeared next to Dumbledore's head.

At the sight of the phoenix, Dumbledore waved to all his party. "The front gate is clear, let's go!" he called.

They all started to retreat. When Snape was about to join his fellow Order members, backed up by a couple of them, he felt a hand grab his wrist. As he turned to curse the one who was holding him back, he barely had the time to recognise the former owner of the wand and see a fist flying towards his face, before he fell to the ground under the shock, losing his grip on his wand.

He extended his hand towards the wand but was knocked unconscious before he could reach it.

When Snape regained consciousness, he felt strangely comfy. He opened his eyes slowly and gave a cautious look around: he was lying in a bed in Hogwart's Hospital Wing. Snape let go a sigh of relief: he was safe. He had rarely been so glad to be at Hogwarts. Contented, he closed his eyes and plunged into a blissful sleep.

When he woke up again, he was welcomed by the warmth of daylight, feeling rested and at peace. A genuine smile found its way to his lips. He felt no more hunger, no more thirst, no more pain. Madam Pomfrey was truly a gifted Healer.

As Snape was about to stand up and get off the bed, said Healer returned to the Hospital Wing.

"What do you think you're doing, Severus?" Madam Pomfrey scolded. "Get back in this bed at once!" Snape complied wordlessly like a child. Nothing could spoil this day. "You need to rest a couple more days. I'll go warn the Headmaster that you're awake. Don't move!" she instructed.

Snape waited patiently for Dumbledore to show up several minutes later.

"Severus! I'm so glad to see you're finally feeling better!" the old wizard exclaimed. "I'm sure you have plenty of questions regarding your rescue from Voldemort's clutches, but first of all I would like to apologise for not coming to your aid earlier."

"To be honest," Snape began, "I didn't expect anyone to come rescue me." He paused. "Were there any losses on our side?"

"Fortunately, none," Dumbledore informed him.

"How did you find out where I was? And where was I, by the way?" Snape asked.

"Ah, so many questions… But let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Dumbledore offered, and Snape nodded. "It was Harry Potter who alerted me, as soon as he discovered you were missing when he came to your office for the Occlumency lesson."

"How could he assume I had been captured just from my absence?" Snape asked, slightly sickened to learn Potter had something to do with his rescue.

"The Pensieve was missing too," Dumbledore explained. "So Harry decided to warn me, just in case it was serious. And you should be thankful he did. Without his warning we would have noticed your absence only many hours later, and consequently we would have arrived too late to save you."

Snape smiled grimly.

"Soon we also found out Mizar was missing too. I had some suspicions, but I would never have thought…" Dumbledore's voice trailed off. "He took you to the same spot you usually used to disapparate for Death Eater meetings, just outside the school's grounds. Which is why we should be thankful to him as well, in a way."

Snape frowned. "Why should we be thankful to him for that?" he asked, slightly puzzled.

"Well, after Voldemort discovered there was a spy among his Death Eaters, I feared greatly for your safety," Dumbledore began to explain. "So I asked Endora a little favour. Knowing you always disapparate from the same spot, I asked her to place a tracing charm on that area, so that we would be able to find you should something turn wrong."

"It's a comfort to learn you would have been able to find my dead body before it disaggregated completely," Snape noted ironically.

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm so glad to see you recovered totally, Severus," he said on a playful tone. "But you might wonder why it took us so long to come rescue you if we had such a reliable means of finding your location."

"Do tell me," Snape invited.

"Well, the tracing charm would have allowed us to create a Portkey with the same destination," the Headmaster said, "but we couldn't take the chance of apparating blindly in a potentially extremely dangerous place. So we had to find the destination the good old way."

Snape nodded. Whenever a wizard disapparated, he left a sort of magical trail between his starting and arrival points. A high level tracing charm could 'reveal' the trail and allow one to follow it with a simple spell like the Four-point spell.

"I decided to send Remus," Dumbledore continued, "since all the other Order members have jobs that wouldn't allow them to be away for several days in a row. It took him six days to reach his final destination, an ancient castle in the depths of the Carpathians."

"Six days…" Snape repeated. He had estimated his imprisonment to nearly a week. "And how long did I remain captured?"

"Nine days," Dumbledore replied. "Again, I apologise it took us so long, but we needed to study the place, establish how many enemies we would have to face, and set up a plan of action before doing anything."

"But why come at all? Why risk losing other Order members?" Snape queried truthfully. In times of war, one life was expendable for the sake of others. "Especially since it was more than likely I would have already been dead by the time you could come."

"You more than most should know of my optimistic nature," Dumbledore began with a kind smile. "Besides, the Order will never let down one of its own. I had also hoped to retrieve the stolen experimental charms at the same time, but unfortunately we failed. Either the charms weren't there or we were unable to find them."

"What about Draco?" Snape suddenly asked with a hint of concern.

"He's still missing," Dumbledore replied with a tired voice. "A few other students are as well. I'm afraid we can't do much for them any longer. They already made their decision…" he said sadly and paused. "On another note, you have no more wand. I'll arrange things so you can get a new one quickly. It is needless to say that from now on your activities will be restricted to the school's grounds, just like Endora's have been for the last few months."

"Wonderful," Snape stated unenthusiastically. "Any other restriction that I should know of?"

"Well, it's not a restriction, but since I'm sure you'll consider it as one…" Dumbledore began, and Snape started to realise there were things that _could_ spoil this day. "I want you to keep giving Occlumency lessons to Harry."

Yes. There were things that could _definitely_ spoil what could otherwise have been a very decent day.

"You have to be kidding," Snape began to protest, but Dumbledore quickly interrupted him.

"Oh no, I'm not," he said. "It's now more than ever that Harry will need the protection provided by Occlumency."

"The Pensieve is gone," Snape tried to object, before adding: "though I guess it would no longer be useful now since the Dark Lord already knows about my being a spy."

"On the contrary," Dumbledore retorted. "It's all the more now that Voldemort knows of your affiliations with the Order that we can't allow him to access any information regarding the Order through Harry. When he tries to possess him again he might look specifically for that kind of information, and we can't afford any to be revealed to him."

"But as I said previously, the Pensieve is gone," Snape reminded on an almost relieved tone.

"Don't worry about that," Dumbledore reassured. "I managed to put my hands on another Pensieve; an old friend of mine allowed me to borrow his for some time."

Snape sighed with disappointment. For a second he had almost thought he would manage to get out of it…

"I know this isn't an easy situation for you, Severus," Dumbledore said soothingly, "and I also know you don't enjoy it the least bit. But we don't have much choice these days."

Snape looked away with disgust.

"As you might guess," Dumbledore continued, "we have no more DADA teacher. Even if there are only a few weeks left in the school year, I'd like to see this position filled as soon as possible. And I would like you to fill it."

Snape arched his eyebrows with surprise. He hadn't expected this at all.

"Of course, this offer isn't for the last weeks of the year only," Dumbledore went on. "It also goes for next year and possibly the years to come."

Sixteen years… Sixteen years applying for the position unsuccessfully, and now he was offered it… Oh how was he going to enjoy his next sentences…

"I'm positively delighted you thought of me to fill this position," he began, savouring each second. "However, I am afraid I have to decline the offer," he finally said with a sadistic pleasure.

Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback by his answer. Delighted to act in a way unexpected by the puppet master, Snape went on: "You will have a hard time finding another competent Potions Master, while I'm sure you'll have no trouble producing an empty-headed DADA teacher like you did these last years."

"Well, I'm quite surprised, to say the least," Dumbledore admitted. "But it is your choice to make. I have another possible professor in mind, but I doubt you will appreciate the suggestion."

"Try anyway," Snape invited.

"Remus Lupin," Dumbledore replied. "He's more than competent enough, and above all he's available. And considering the dark times we're facing, I doubt any parent will object to me hiring a mere werewolf as long as someone teaches DADA to their children. This won't be any problem to you, will it?" Dumbledore asked with a hint of teasing in his voice.

Snape had clenched his fists unconsciously at the name. "Of course not," he claimed between gritted teeth.

"Good. I will go inform him at once, then," Dumbledore concluded joyfully and left a few seconds later, leaving Snape to wonder if the puppet had really managed to trick the puppet master.

* * *

Coming Next: _Imitation of Normality_


	33. Imitation of Normality

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 33  
IMITATION OF NORMALITY**

Snape rested a couple more days in the Hospital Wing, as instructed by Madam Pomfrey, even though he felt well enough to leave. His colleagues came to visit him, out of politeness Snape guessed, since each came only once in three days. Only McGonagall and Dumbledore came to see him every day.

Even Lupin had visited him after being hired, accompanied by Wilson - who had looked like she had been talked into coming against her will. While Lupin, who had seemed genuinely happy to see him feeling better, had tried to chitchat politely with him, Snape hadn't even pretended to listen. As for Wilson, she had remained silent, with a cold and indifferent expression on her face.

It was with relief that Snape started teaching again. It made him feel like everything was back to normal. But it was not, far from it, as he realised when Friday afternoon and the seventh year double Potions lesson came. Once all the students were at their places, he remained staring at the few empty seats for a long moment.

Nothing was back to normal. They were at war. Snape was snapped out of his reverie by the Head Girl's cough.

"Erm… Excuse me? Professor?" Granger asked.

Snape looked up to see her hand raised. He gave a quick look around, and noted all the students were very calm, waiting patiently for him to begin the lesson.

He suddenly decided to change his plans for the upcoming lesson. "What I am about to teach you is not part of the NEWT program. We finished covering it a couple of weeks ago, so today, instead of having revisions, we will work on something that could be of utmost importance in the upcoming war."

A few students gasped at the word, but none looked surprised. They knew perfectly well what situation the wizarding world was in.

He led his lesson calmly and very soberly, with no aggressiveness or mockery in his voice or words when he gave them instructions. Somehow he found he had never seen them work so hard and dedicatedly on a potion than that day.

At the end of the lesson, Snape felt the need to go relax in an open space - which was very uncommon for him. Usually, he would remain in his office or his Potions lab. But somehow, after being imprisoned for nearly ten days, he didn't really feel like secluding himself any more.

So he headed for the staff room, abnormally pleased to see there were several teachers there, those who didn't have any late lesson on Friday afternoons: Sinistra, Hooch, Wilson and Lupin. Sinistra was having a cup of tea and smiled at him, Hooch was busy on some kind of a letter, while Wilson and Lupin were discussing in a corner.

Snape hailed a House Elf to ask for a cup of tea too, and settled comfortably into a sofa. From where he was, he couldn't help but hear Lupin's parting words to his sister.

"Look, I have to go," Lupin said. "I'll come see you tomorrow morning, is that all right with you?"

Wilson shrugged. "Sure," she answered, looking slightly disappointed.

Lupin gave a quick look around before bending to whisper something at his sister's ear.

"Of course you should, don't be silly!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Now go!" she concluded as she shushed him away.

On his way out, Lupin nodded to Snape. "Hey, Severus," he greeted.

Snape nodded back. Wilson seemed to notice him at last. She cast him a quick despising look before looking away with a sigh. Why was he under the impression that she resented him, these days?

Snape decided to ignore her just like she was ignoring him. He picked a book from a bookshelf and took a sip at his tea. Meanwhile, Wilson settled at Hooch's table next to the chimney with a book, and began to take down notes.

Around half an hour later, Sinistra suddenly stood up and moved to the sofa next to Snape's. She gave a quick cautious look to Hooch.

"We're planning a birthday party for Hooch's forties this summer," she muttered to him on a conspiring tone. "We'll try to avoid alcohol, seeing what happened last time."

Snape gave an involuntary glance towards Wilson at that reference. "A party to remind her she's already forty, and with no alcohol… She'll hate it," Snape concluded in a low voice.

"Of course she will!" Sinistra replied mischievously. "So, are you in?"

"Sure," Snape nodded.

"Good!" Sinistra exclaimed a little too loudly, and Hooch sent them an interrogating look. "I'd better go," Sinistra went on, and left shortly after.

It only took a couple of minutes before Hooch headed for Snape.

"Look, I know you guys are plotting something. It's only a matter of time before I find out what it is. Tell me what it's all about," the witch demanded.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Snape replied innocently.

"Right," Hooch mocked. "Let me warn you," she said, pointing a menacing finger at him, "if it's a party for my birthday you'll all pay for it."

"I have no doubt about that," Snape replied playfully.

Hooch sighed, looked around, glanced briefly at Wilson, then around again. "Who could I… Trelawney!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Trelawney isn't very strong-willed. And once you can make something intelligible out of her nonsense, she can be quite informative!"

"Good luck, then," Snape teased.

Hooch briefly glared at him and left. Once she had, Wilson cast Snape a quick annoyed look and sighed again. It was Snape's turn to look up to her with annoyance. Couldn't she ignore him properly? She was now staring intently at the pages of her book.

Snape suddenly noted he didn't remember her turning more than a page during the last half hour. He studied her more closely: her eyes weren't moving. She wasn't reading. Wilson abruptly looked up to stare longingly at the chimney for a long moment, before looking back down to her book.

The chimney. Of course, Snape realised.

"You want to use the floo network, don't you?" Snape asked on an amused tone.

Wilson jumped at his words. "What?"

"You want to use the floo network," he repeated, more confident.

"I don't, I…" she began to protest, until he arched an eyebrow unbelievingly. "All right, I do. Look. These last five months I've seen only children and fellow teachers. Unlike some people here, I'm a social person. I need to see people."

"Oh," Snape said on a fake understanding tone, "don't mind me, then. Go ahead. Do something stupid."

Wilson glared at him for a long moment as he returned to his reading, before shaking her head and resuming her own reading.

After a few silent seconds, Snape spoke up. "Where has Lupin gone, by the way?" he asked innocently, still looking at his book.

"Since when is it any of your business?" Wilson replied, keeping reading as well.

"Since we're at war, and anyone going away with no valid reason could possibly be a spy or a traitor," Snape retorted calmly.

Wilson turned to face him. "You don't really mean he could – "

"Anyone could," Snape interrupted. "Did you ever suspect Ursaglow?"

"Fine!" Wilson exclaimed. "Remus has a date!"

"A date?" Snape repeated. "With whom?"

"Are you just being indecently curious, or do you actually have a point?" Wilson queried.

"This lady could be a spy," Snape remarked, "assuming it's a lady of course. With all the time he's spent at Black's you'd think – "

"An Auror," Wilson interrupted as she sighed heavily. "A _female_ Auror. A friend of Tonks'; she introduced them to one another a couple of months ago. Happy?" she asked ironically.

"Tremendously," he replied with an evil smile. "So, what are you waiting for to use the floo?" Trying to push her beyond her limits was a very enjoyable activity - especially since she was more short-tempered than she let people know.

"Nothing, I won't use it," Wilson answered between gritted teeth.

"Why not?" Snape asked. "You could at least give the Dark Lord a chance to finish what he started last winter, I'm sure he'd love to see you dead at last. Though I'm sure Malfoy would love to have that chance too after his own failed attempt."

Snape realised what he had just said only when it was too late. Wilson had dropped her quill and turned to him abruptly.

"What?" she murmured, barely audible. "Malfoy? Malfoy didn't… Unless…"

Snape remained silent, at a total loss as to what to say, as he watched a series of conflicted emotions flashing in her eyes. All of a sudden, Wilson stood up and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Snape called.

"Anywhere where you're not," she replied with a mix of anger, bitterness and disgust.

Snape hurried behind her, slightly concerned she might do something even more stupid than flooing out of the castle. She was striding at an unbelievable pace, and even he had a hard time following her. By the time he caught up with her, she had already turned around the corner and reached the stairs.

Before he could say anything, she almost shouted: "I can't believe you kept this from me!"

A few wizards in the paintings nearby glared in her direction with a disapproving look.

"What would you have done with this piece of information, anyway?" Snape contested. "Seek revenge?"

"What I would have done is my problem!" she explained, still walking so fast Snape had troubles keeping up with her. "You agreed to do this! The memory I had to share with you was…" she hesitated for a second, "extremely personal, and I expected at least a little honesty from you!" she concluded, totally furious.

"All right, so it was Malfoy," Snape confirmed. "He's on the loose. He's already wanted by the Ministry. What would you have done, with his son in your class at least once a week?"

"What are you implying, that I would have taken it out on Draco?" she asked, irate. "Don't be ridiculous! I'm not stupid enough to blame the son for what his father did!"

Snape briefly wondered if he was supposed to take this comment as a personal insult. He then noticed they had reached Wilson's rooms. She unlocked the door and made to go in, but suddenly changed her mind and turned wildly to him.

"Why do you even care enough to explain this to me?" she asked aggressively. "You don't ever care for anything! You don't care your students hate you! You don't care most of their parents don't trust you!"

Was it sick of him to find her strangely attractive when she was angry at him like this?

"You don't care about anyone but yourself!" Wilson continued to rant.

Oh, to hell with consequences.

"All you – "

Snape didn't let her finish her sentence and kissed her wildly. Once the moment of surprise passed, she pushed him away violently and slapped him hard.

"You… You…" she stammered heatedly, at a loss for suitable insults.

So it _was_ sick of him. But to his surprise, Wilson wasn't leaving. She was staring at him intently, and looked hesitant. Her eyes were filled with indecision, loneliness and some kind of craving. She seemed almost demanding, as if she was begging him to do it again. So he did. And she didn't reject him this time, far from it.

* * *

Coming Next: _Another Dive in the Pensieve_


	34. Another Dive In The Pensieve

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 34  
ANOTHER DIVE IN THE PENSIEVE**

When Snape woke up later that night in Wilson's bed, the witch asleep and snuggled against his side, he couldn't believe he had been stupid enough to do this again. Well, actually he couldn't believe _Wilson_ had been stupid enough to do this again too. And this time neither of them had the excuse of alcohol. He looked down at her. She had an arm wrapped around his waist, and was holding him too tightly to allow him to leave without waking her.

So he remained still and gave a look around. This was definitely a woman's room - lots of nauseating pastel colours all around. There were bookshelves in every corner. There was also a quite imposing pile of books on the bedside table.

Snape reached for the one on the top. Charms. He continued down the pile, putting the books aside one by one. More Charms. Novel. Arithmancy. Charms again. Potions. Some more Cha– Potions? He looked at the title of the book more closely: '_The Origins of Potions_' by Fornax Varkov. The book he had advised her to read months before.

Trust a former Ravenclaw to read any book you might recommend to her.

Snape continued to browse down the pile of books, until he found a photograph, stuck between two books. He picked it up carefully. There was a man - late Jonathan Wilson - carrying a young child on his shoulders. Both were smiling joyfully, and the boy was waving at the camera while saying something - something that looked like it could have been 'hi mom'.

Snape put the photograph and the books back in their places. Then he rested comfortably and gave a last quick look towards Wilson before closing his eyes. Might as well try to get some more sleep. With the upcoming war, he might not have the opportunity to have another full night of sleep before a long time.

It was much later that Snape woke up again, once light was already shining through the curtains. And even though he felt like he had never slept so much before, it was no natural waking: his forearm was aching. The Dark Lord was calling his minions.

There was only one time in his life when he had ignored such a call: during the Triwizard Tournament a few years before. The pain had grown excruciating back then - you don't ignore the Dark Lord's call without paying for it.

Snape closed his eyes, trying his best to forget about the growing pain. He could still feel the warmth of a body next to his, which meant Wilson was still there. He tried to focus on her presence and block the pain out of his mind. But then she moved quite significantly, and disturbed his concentration. He opened his eyes to check her whereabouts, and was taken aback by what he saw.

Wilson was bent over his forearm, gazing at the Dark Mark. Not with disgust or fascination, like he had come to expect as the only two possible attitudes, but with curiosity. And as he saw her watching his Dark Mark, the symbol of all his past evil deeds, while his forearm was hurting more and more by the instant, he suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

So he protected himself the only way he knew.

He took his arm away from Wilson's scrutiny harshly. "What do you think you're doing?" he spat angrily.

The witch jumped at the sound of his voice and looked up to him with surprise. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I didn't think – "

"Well you surely didn't!" he exclaimed spitefully. The pain in his forearm was still increasing. He had to get away from her, quickly, and find a quiet place before the pain became unbearable.

He stood up abruptly and headed for what he guessed was the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He rested his back against a wall, and took a few deep breaths.

He was overreacting. She had no way to know the Dark Mark was calling him - there was no difference in the appearance. But just thinking she had taken advantage of his sleeping to pick a glance at it was fuelling his anger.

"Not a morning person, are we?" he heard her chuckle from the room.

The comment drove him over the edge. He opened the door again and stepped back in the room.

"The Dark Mark is no laughing matter!" he exclaimed irately. "It is the symbol of a lifelong commitment to the Dark Lord! It represents all the evil things I've done in the past, and I've done quite a few, believe me! You have no idea of all the things I've done in the name of the Dark Lord! And this Dark Mark is the testimony of them!"

Snape wasn't sure what was annoying him the most. The fact the pain in his forearm was still increasing, or seeing Wilson's half smile after his declarations.

"First, I already kind of guessed all that," Wilson replied calmly. "Second, you might want to know that there's a bathrobe in there," she said as she indicated the bathroom. "Not that I really mind you hanging around like this…" she concluded on a suggestive tone.

Snape was suddenly very aware of his nakedness. All the more angered, he walked back in the bathroom and headed for the bathrobe, while he heard Wilson giggle. The bathrobe was pink - just his luck. And couldn't this pain stop for even a moment?

"You have no idea how many twisted witches have sought after me only because of this Mark!" he almost shouted, while he put the - pink - bathrobe on.

"No, but I'd love to know!" he heard Wilson reply on a playful tone.

He headed once more for the room, more angry than ever. His forearm's skin felt like it was burning now.

"You don't understand, do you?" Snape hissed in a low voice, resisting the urge to scratch the skin off his forearm. "I've done _things_ you can't even imagine because of _this_," he continued as he indicated the Dark Mark, "because I chose to take the Mark of the Dark Lord. Joining the Dark Lord's side comes with a price, and my bearing this," he indicated again, "and my being still alive to show it proves I paid it," he continued bitterly. The pain in his forearm had grown so much he had a hard time keeping a straight face. "And I cannot tolerate anyone mocking what symbolises the darkest and one of the most significant parts of my life," he finished on an irrevocable tone.

Wilson's half smile had slowly faded during his tirade. Once he was done, she remained staring at him silently for a few seconds. Then she suddenly turned to grab her clothes and began to dress, just as silently.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked with surprise.

"I'm getting dressed," Wilson replied matter-of-factly.

"Why?" He had suddenly totally forgotten about his aching forearm.

"Because I don't exactly entertain the idea of hanging around the school totally naked." She paused, looking as if she was repeating her own sentence in her head. "Damn, I'm spending way too much time around you…" Once dressed, she headed for the door.

"You still don't understand, do you?" Snape insisted. Why was he all of a sudden almost desperate to have her understand?

"Oh, on the contrary, it's perfectly clear," Wilson replied calmly and coldly as she turned to face him. "I understand that you have plenty of issues. I understand that you don't want to talk about them. I also understand you wish to be left alone, so I'll spare you the trouble of kicking me out of my own room by leaving on my own. I understand you're the kind of guy who will never be happy, because you keep dwelling on the past, and because somehow you enjoy feeling miserable. And honestly I could do without that, especially these days."

"Well, if one dwelling on the past is doomed to never be happy, then I guess you're as doomed as I am," Snape noted.

"There's a substantial difference between – " Wilson began.

"And I'll have you know that I don't take any pleasure in feeling miserable," Snape interrupted. As a sudden surge of pain shot through his forearm, he began to massage his Dark Mark almost unconsciously.

"Why don't you tell me, then?" she asked. "Why don't you tell me about these 'evil' things you said you did?"

Snape pondered over this for a moment. This was crazy. This was totally demented. But he had to make her see for herself… "I can't tell you," he eventually replied. "But I can show you, if you feel up to it."

He didn't wait for Wilson's answer, and began rummaging through his scattered clothes. It took him several seconds to find his wand among the mess. As soon as he had it, he conjured the new Pensieve from his office, while Wilson still looked quite puzzled.

As Snape began to extract memories with the tip of his wand, Wilson suddenly spoke up. "Wait, you don't really – "

"You asked for it," he interrupted. "I'll select only two memories, it should be more than enough," he added bitterly.

When he was done, he pushed the Pensieve towards Wilson. The witch looked at the shimmering surface apprehensively.

"What are you waiting for? Don't you want to know about the 'evil' things I said I did?" he asked, mimicking her tone.

Wilson hesitated a few more seconds before dipping a finger in the Pensieve.

Severus was sixteen years old. It was the summer vacation before his sixth year at Hogwarts, and instead of being outside in the sun, he was in his room, working on a Potions assignment. Potions was one of the few things that helped him relax. When working on Potions, he almost didn't hear his parents arguing and yelling at each other any more, like they were at the moment.

There was a light tap at the window. It was an owl, and Severus immediately got up to retrieve the message. He read it quickly; it was only a few words scribbled on a piece of parchment.

"_Meet me by the lake in twenty minutes. Bring the book. L.M._"

By the lake in twenty minutes? He had to leave as soon as possible if he wanted to be there by then. So Severus browsed through his shelves hurriedly to find the required book, before leaving his room. Then he proceeded to go down the stairs as quietly as possible, as to not bring his parents' attention to him.

Now that he was downstairs, he could hear the argument all the more clearly. The most difficult part would be to walk through the dining room's open door without their noticing him. He took a deep breath and walked ahead of him resolutely.

"Severus!" his father's voice called angrily.

Damn. He ignored his father and kept walking forward, until a strong hand grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Where are you going, boy?" his father demanded harshly. When he didn't reply, the pressure on his forearm increased. "Where. Are. You. Going?"

Severus turned to face his father at last, and looked at him in the eyes. He didn't fear him, not any more. "I'm meeting Lucius Malfoy at the lake."

His father suddenly released his grip. "Malfoy?... A rich family… Very powerful… Don't make a fool out of yourself in front of Malfoy," he warned.

Severus nodded and left, barely listening to his father warning him about his arrogant behaviour. One day, he would show him.

He strode through the wilderness, the book under his arm, hoping to arrive on time. Severus didn't really have any friends at Hogwarts, and even though Malfoy was several years older than he was, he had in a way taken Severus under his protection during his first year. And Severus didn't want to spoil the closest thing he had to a friendship.

When he reached the lake at last, he was greeted by Malfoy's displeased expression.

"You're late," the young man noted.

"You know I can't apparate yet, unlike you," Severus remarked. He noticed the presence of some of Lucius' friends. The Lestrange brothers, Jugson, and Bellatrix Black. He averted his eyes when they met the young witch's - he had always felt slightly uncomfortable around her. That was when he noticed the presence of a young woman, wrists and ankles tied. She was crying, and was also obviously under the effects of a Silencing charm.

"Who's that?" Severus asked.

Malfoy shrugged. "Just a Muggle. Do you have the book?" Severus nodded and handed the book to Lucius. "Good!" Malfoy said as he browsed the pages. "Ah, this one looks interesting. What do you think, Bella?"

The witch moved to Lucius' side to peer over his shoulder. Her lips twitched in a half demented smile. "Oh, can I be the first to try it?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Sure, go ahead," Malfoy agreed.

Black picked up the book and moved in front of the Muggle. When she dispelled the Silencing charm, the woman's yells echoed throughout the countryside.

"No one can hear you, dear," Black mocked while she read the page. "You'd better save your breath for what's coming…"

The Muggle began to cry anew, begging for mercy, asking they released her. But it only seemed to increase Black's excitement. The witch lifted her wand with a devilish smile, and eventually cast the curse: "_Intorqueo Artus_!"

The Muggle's cries redoubled as her arms, legs and neck suddenly elongated to reach abnormal proportions. Black seemed very pleased with the result.

The young wizards took turns torturing the Muggle, trying Dark Arts curse after Dark Arts curse on their live experiment. Severus remained watching them, fascinated by their abilities to master so quickly curses so complex. As for Malfoy, he studied Severus' reactions very closely from the corner of his eyes.

"Severus," Malfoy eventually called. "Do you want to try?"

Snape hesitated for a second. "What about the Underage Magic Restriction? The Ministry will know I've been doing magic in an instant."

"Use my wand, then," Malfoy offered as he handed it. "No one will know you did anything."

Severus picked it up and began to browse the book for a curse. They were all so complicated…

"These are no kid's curses like you're used to," Malfoy noted. "This is more serious. This is real Dark Arts."

Severus nodded. He had read this book several times, he already knew all about these curses. He looked around: they were all watching him expectedly. He browsed the book some more until he found a curse he could try. He aimed Malfoy's wand at the whimpering Muggle and pronounced the incantation. "_Perseco Multiplicatus_!" he exclaimed.

A series of large cuts appeared simultaneously on various parts of the woman's body and started to bleed profusely.

"A very fine pick, if I may say so, Severus," Malfoy commented, and Severus smiled with self satisfaction. "Though I'm afraid it will shorten our fun. Bella, I think I saw a curse to skin alive in there. Do you want to try it before it's too late?"

Severus was now seventeen years old. There had been several drastic changes in his life this last year. First, he had unexpectedly bonded with some of his Slytherin year mates - Avery, Rosier and Wilkes - over the summer. They had all been enlisted by Malfoy for his… activities… and all shared Malfoy's views on non-purebloods.

Severus wasn't sure what his opinion on the subject was. Sure, he had been brought up to share that point of view, but he didn't know what _he_ thought about it. Actually he didn't really care, as long as he was accepted in their group.

Now that all four of them were of age, they had taken all this a step further. Malfoy had introduced them to the Dark Lord, the powerful dark wizard feared by so many in the Wizarding world. Even by the Minister of Magic, it was said. They had joined him, and he had become their Master. They bore his Mark proudly on the forearm. But now the day had come for them to prove their allegiance and show they were worthy of becoming one of the Dark Lord's trusted Death Eaters.

He would show them. He would show them all what he was worth.

That night, they had joined the older Death Eaters for a raid on Muggle-born wizards. Severus was the first to have to prove himself, once they had managed to corner a wandless witch in her own house.

The Dark Lord was standing next to him, giving him instructions. "Kill her," the Dark Lord demanded coldly.

The Killing Curse. The ultimate step in the Dark Arts. He knew he could cast it, there was no questioning it. He was half thrilled, half nervous at the prospect of using it. Severus observed the witch: he didn't know her. She was glaring at him with hatred, but he didn't care. He aimed his wand at her.

All of a sudden, the witch rushed towards him with a cry full of rage. And before he knew it, Severus had cast the curse. "_Avada Kedavra_!" he shouted. The witch fell to the floor in the middle of her run.

"The child, now, Severus," the Dark Lord ordered next to him, and Snape felt an urging hand on his shoulder.

A child? What child? Severus wondered, until he saw a five year old boy running to the witch's body. Her son. She had been standing in the doorway that led to the room where the boy was hiding. She had tried to protect her child.

Could he do that? Severus then wondered. He saw the boy look up to him with fright. Exactly the way he himself had used to look up to his father when he was the boy's age. The boy was totally defenceless. He couldn't do that. He just couldn't.

"Now, Severus," the Dark Lord insisted with irritation, and dig his nails into Snape's shoulder pressingly.

Severus gave a quick look around, and suddenly realised the few Death Eaters present weren't there to back him up, but to eliminate him should the need arise.

He couldn't do that, but he would have to.

He took his courage in both hands and, doing his best to ignore the boy's look of terror, he lifted his wand.

By the time Wilson came back from the Pensieve, the pain in Snape's forearm had subsided. Wilson seemed to be on the verge of tears, and didn't look at him immediately. She took a few deep breaths before turning to him.

"Did you kill that child?" she asked with a weak and strangled voice.

So she hadn't had the courage to see the memory to the end…

"Did you kill that child?" she repeated, quite heatedly this time.

"What do you think?" he simply asked back.

Ah, there it was at last. The disgust on her face when she was looking at him. And it was very clear what she thought he had done.

"Being a member of the Order makes me no better man than any other Death Eater," Snape continued. "We are called Death Eaters for a reason. We feed on death and destruction. And the Dark Lord always makes sure to place you in a kill or be killed situation." Why did he feel the need to justify his actions? Especially when he had never managed to justify those?

"But a _child_, for Merlin's sake!" Wilson exclaimed furiously.

"What can I say…? I've always led my life making a fool's choices."

Wilson shook her head with repugnance. "I would have died rather than kill a child," she muttered.

Snape silently watched her leave. People always assumed what _they_ would do in this or that situation, how heroic _they_ would act. And most of the time they got it unbelievingly wrong.

He quietly followed Wilson to the doorstep, only to find Lupin standing there, just outside, as if about to knock.

"Endora? What – " Lupin began.

"This isn't the moment, Remus," the witch interrupted him. "And I don't want any questions," she concluded before rushing away.

Lupin watched his sister leave hurriedly. He turned round and finally noticed Snape's presence. The werewolf stared at him for a moment, then looked him up and down.

"Isn't that Endora's – "

"Yes, it is," Snape interrupted quite grimly. Wilson's _pink_ bathrobe.

Lupin stared unbelievingly at him some more. "You two didn't – "

"Oh yes, we most certainly did. Several times, actually," Snape replied provocatively. "So, how was your date?" he continued on a casual tone.

Lupin looked more and more confused. "I, er… I think I'd better go…" And with these last words, he left.

* * *

Coming Next: _Getting Ready_


	35. Getting Ready

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 35  
GETTING READY**

Snape's eyes remained for a long time on the Daily Prophet's cover. Reports of multiple attacks and aggressions on Muggles and Muggle-borns these last few weeks. They were taking place with increasing frequency, and many families feared for their lives and their loved ones. The war had begun, he concluded as he looked up at last.

He was at Grimmauld Place for an Order of the Phoenix meeting. Not a meeting with the core members only, but a meeting with all - or most - of them. There were several dozens of witches and wizards assembled in the dining room when Dumbledore spoke up.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, these are difficult times," the old wizard declared. "You have all heard the news, like I have. Voldemort has already begun to strike. The attacks are random and can't be predicted. The best we can do for the moment is to recommend vigilance and caution to everyone." He paused. "However, we know for certain that an attack on Hogwarts is brewing. Kingsley?"

Shacklebolt stepped in front of the audience. "The Ministry has received various reports of abnormal activities of several magical creatures kinds from all over the British Isles. They have also managed to establish some kind of a pattern to the attacks on Muggles: while random, they're all heading towards Hogwarts."

Dumbledore spoke again. "We have estimated their arrival to two days. Three at most. That's the only time we have to ready ourselves. The Minister assured me of his full support. Aurors and other governmental forces will help protect Hogwarts, but I'm afraid this will be far from enough. Many dark creatures have joined Voldemort's side, and we will have to face much more than just Death Eaters. Which is why I will need all of you, all of your valuable help to stop them."

The members of the Order all nodded their agreement. However, Snape briefly wondered why the Dark Lord would decide to attack Hogwarts, and not the Ministry for example. But it was soon quite clear to him that there were two rather obvious reasons: Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

"During the last months," Dumbledore continued, "Remus has travelled across Europe to meet with witches and wizards from various countries to try to convince them to rally our cause. Those who agreed were contacted and will arrive at Hogwarts shortly. Alastor?"

It was Moody's turn to step in front of the audience. "We will set an Apparition point just outside the school. At all times it will be guarded by at least five witches or wizards to allow our allies a safe arrival."

Everyone nodded again.

"I expect all of you to be at Hogwarts by sundown today," Dumbledore said. "As I speak, House Elves are arranging facilities in order to accommodate everyone. Now if you will excuse me, I have to break the news to the school's staff, and, above all, to the students," the old wizard concluded.

A few minutes later, Snape, Lupin, Wilson, McGonagall and the Headmaster had apparated just outside Hogwarts together. Dumbledore turned to the four others.

"Could you please go fetch the students of your Houses and bring them all to the Great Hall, while I talk to the other teachers?" Snape, Wilson and McGonagall nodded. "Remus, could you please take care of the Hufflepuff students? I'm sure Professor Sprout will understand."

"Of course," Lupin agreed.

Soon they were all off, and met again half an hour later in the Great Hall with all the students. Most of the students were strangely quiet - they could feel something was wrong. There was only one noisy group, a quite large group mainly made up of Gryffindors, but with members of all the Houses - even Slytherin. Potter and his gang seemed to be leading the discussions. However, they all quietened as soon as the Headmaster entered with the other teachers.

While Dumbledore proceeded to explain everything to the students, Snape observed his colleagues. Some looked a bit pale - especially Trelawney - but mostly they seemed resolute. Snape then listened to Dumbledore explaining about what was coming, about the Dark Lord, Death Eaters and dark creatures, about allies coming to help protect the school. Once done, the Headmaster asked if there were any questions.

Instead of the expected uneasy silence, there was some sort of rumble among the group of students that had been noisy before Dumbledore's speech. Granger, Potter and Weasley moved to the front of the group.

"Sir?" Granger asked. "Could we add something?"

"Of course," Dumbledore said kindly.

"We want to help," Potter affirmed.

"Who do you mean exactly by 'we', Harry?" Dumbledore queried.

"Us," Weasley replied. "I mean, all of us," he added as he indicated the group behind him, and they all cheered.

Dumbledore shook his head lightly. "I am not sure you quite understand the risks."

"We've been training for three years, sir." It was Longbottom who had talked.

The Headmaster sighed heavily. "Well, since you are all of age," he began, and with a quick look Snape took note that they were all, indeed, sixth or seventh years, "I can hardly forbid you to make your own choices. But I have to warn you that this isn't a game. It is very serious, and by taking a part in this, it is your very lives you are endangering."

Well, it wasn't like Potter had never endangered his life and the lives of others uselessly and in a manner contrary to common sense, Snape thought. One more time couldn't really hurt. And if it could, Snape wouldn't be one to complain.

"We already discussed this among ourselves," Potter informed them. "We still want to help."

Dumbledore seemed to blanch somewhat. Snape knew the Headmaster always put the security of his students first, and this decision certainly thwarted him in his plans.

"Very well," Dumbledore finally said with the tone of one who had just been sentenced to death. "But I don't want any of you to take any unnecessary risks. As for the others, and especially those underage, you will all remain here safely, within the school."

A Slytherin raised his hand. "And if we're of age, but don't want to join or to remain here, sir?" the boy asked cockily.

Snape shivered at the implications. If he didn't want to join or to remain there, it meant he wanted to leave - and likely to join the _other_ forces.

Before Dumbledore could reply, several students spontaneously joined the other, voicing similar concerns. Snape noticed there was at least a student or two from each House, even if Slytherin was the most strongly represented House. Dumbledore didn't have the time to answer them before an argument broke out between this group and the other.

"Quiet!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "QUIET!" The argument stopped at once: it was extremely rare for the Headmaster to raise his voice. "Everyone here is entitled to his opinion," the old wizard continued. "The underage students were placed under my care by their parents, and will all remain here. As for the older students, you are free to act as you wish."

There was a long uneasy silence. Snape wasn't sure what Dumbledore expected exactly with this kind of ultimatum: the departure of the troublemakers or their coming to their senses. The latter, probably. In any case, some students decided to leave, to the shock of most of the others. Snape gave a quick look towards Dumbledore: the Headmaster was standing very straight, a bit stiff even as he watched the few students walk away, seemingly imperturbable - though he had paled significantly.

Once the few students were gone, rumblings began to rise in the Great Hall. Dumbledore had to ask for silence again.

"Lessons will be cancelled for the upcoming days," he announced. Strangely, this news wasn't welcomed as cheerfully by the students as it could have. "I trust the older students, especially the prefects, to look after the younger ones."

The speech ended rather awkwardly, with the Headmaster telling the students that their Heads of House would be there to answer their more specific questions. Snape being blessed with the Slytherin House, all he had to do was glare menacingly at any student looking up at him questioningly - _they_ knew better than to ask anyway - during the next few minutes to be off duty.

Dumbledore soon moved to his side. "Severus, we expect allies to begin arriving any minute now, and they need an extra wizard to secure the Apparition point. Seeing as your students don't seem to have any questions, would you care to go to the Apparition point to help?"

"Sure," Snape agreed.

Within minutes, he had reached the Apparition point just outside the school. Moody, Shacklebolt, Tonks and Arthur Weasley were already there, ready to welcome the allies of the Order.

"Snape," Moody greeted him. "Still on our side, I see."

"For the time being, yes," Snape replied coldly, slightly annoyed by the ex Auror's usual allusion to his allegiance.

"Good thing Dumbledore sent you here so I could keep an eye on you," Moody said as he moved away, his magical eye never leaving Snape.

Snape decided to ignore him, and took his position near the Apparition point. During the next hours, they welcomed dozens of witches and wizards, among which many former students. There were some noticeable individuals though: Madame Maxime and some of her older students, Viktor Krum and several countrymen, Filius Flitwick, Ollivander, recently wed Bill and Fleur Weasley…

Speaking of Weasleys, the entire family was soon reunited near Hogwarts grounds. The twins were the first to join their oldest brother. Molly Weasley arrived shortly after Percy, voicing her concerns over the presence of her sons for the upcoming battle. Charlie was the last to get there. He was accompanied by many co-workers, and, as all those that had not headed for the castle yet noticed while taking a few steps back, by several dragons.

The dragons were securely maintained under control by their keepers, but were yanking wildly on their leashes. Dragons. Snape couldn't believe his eyes. Well, at least they would be fighting fire with fire - quite literally.

After a few hours securing the Apparating point perimeter, a group of Order members came to relieve Snape and the others from their duty. All five of them then headed for the castle, and discovered a buzzing activity in the Great Hall: many students were talking with their family members, friends, and other acquaintances that had come to help.

The night that came was quite sleepless for Snape - as for many others he guessed. He spent most of his time lying awake in his bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't help but think about all the things that had led to this situation, his part in it - for both sides - the point his life had reached…

He got up at the break of dawn, unable to remain still any longer, and headed outside, hoping to relax in the brisk morning of June. However, it did nothing to appease him. As he set his eyes on the skyline, he spotted a flight of birds, fleeing away en masse from the area.

Disturbed by the sound of light footsteps growing nearer, Snape recognised Dumbledore from the corner of his eyes. The Headmaster stopped next to him.

"They're coming," Snape said softly.

"I know," the Headmaster replied on a concerned tone.

They remained there, standing silently next to each other, studying the skyline. McGonagall was the first of many to join them in their silent observation. Two hours later, all of the witches and wizards that had come were assembled outside the castle, along with the older students that had offered to help.

As a dark shadow expanded in the distance, an odd assemblage of creatures emerged from the Forbidden Forest, among which Centaurs - the younger ones, Snape noted - and giants… All were led by Hagrid and Firenze.

Most of the wizards instantly took their wands out and prepared to defend themselves, until Dumbledore's voice rose above the turmoil.

"Do not worry," the Headmaster began to explain. "These creatures have decided to join us for the battle to come. And they're not the only ones," he added, turning to welcome the crowd of Hogwarts House Elves that had just stepped out of the castle.

During the next minutes, they all readied themselves, wands in hands, as the dark shadow kept approaching until their opponents were within sight. The enemy had many creatures among its ranks, including some Centaurs and giants as well.

But everyone instantly forgot about the Death Eaters or any dark creature as soon as they spotted dreaded, dark, shapeless silhouettes floating in the distance. Several wizards began to whisper worriedly.

Dementors.

* * *

Coming Next: _The Last Battle_


	36. The Last Battle

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 36  
THE LAST BATTLE**

Snape found himself caught in the heat of the action very rapidly. The battle had begun rather awkwardly, after a member of the Order fell dead to the ground, hit by a killing curse cast by a Death Eater while their opponents were still far off. It wasn't long before the school grounds turned into a total mess.

Snape had quickly lost track of who was where, his instincts taking over instantly as he fought his enemies. The battle was tough; people and creatures were shouting and growling all around.

He cast spell after spell, dodged to avoid a curse, barely escaped a giant's vicious grip, hardly ever taking a second to catch his breath. The chaos was such that most of the time he had a hard time figuring who was or wasn't on his side.

A punch in the face here, a stupefying charm there, all in all, Snape thought he was faring fairly well - after all, he was still standing and breathing, and only had a few scratches. However, an unexpected event, manifesting itself mainly in a sudden and sharp pain to his right leg, turned his vision of his situation upside-down - literally.

As he was fighting off a Death Eater, a creature he hadn't seen had plunged its sharp fangs into his calf and had pulled violently until he had lost his balance and had fallen backwards. Almost knocked unconscious by his fall, Snape had enough sense to grip his wand tightly.

While the creature began to drag him away at an alarming speed, Snape managed to get a glimpse of its furry body and its five legs: a quintaped. He urgently dug his fingers in the ground in an attempt to slow or even stop the progression, but all he managed to do was to badly scrape both hands and arms.

The quintaped kept dragging him across the battlefield, right in the middle of the ongoing chaos. No one around seemed to notice him; they were too busy trying to keep themselves alive.

The ride was a painful and bumpy one, during which Snape never managed to get a clear shot at the creature - the few times he tried he almost lost his wand. Every now and then, the quintaped deemed it necessary to secure its hold on its prey by chewing away on his calf some more. Snape yelled at the pain, but the cry was lost in the general commotion.

The quintaped came to a stop at last once they reached the borders of the lake, away from the heat of the battle - probably so the creature could enjoy its meal quietly. But Snape wasn't about to give it this chance. As soon as the creature stopped and began to release its grip, he propped himself up on his elbows and immediately cast a flipping spell on the quintaped: it ended on its back, its five legs gesticulating aimlessly in the void.

Before it could figure how to get back on its legs, Snape stupefied it. Then he lay on his back again with a relieved sigh. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a few seconds to catch his breath, trying to ignore the excruciating pain in his leg, and not caring for a single instant that his feet were dangling in the lake.

He might have passed out for a few minutes, he couldn't tell for sure. When he opened his eyes again, he stood up. The battle. Suddenly remembering he might be needed, Snape stood up painfully, putting all his weight on his functioning leg, and made a quick inventory of his injuries. His right calf was torn to shreds and bleeding profusely. His wand was covered with the blood from his scratched hand and arm. He murmured a quick spell to prevent it from being slippery. As for the wounds, his healing skills being what they were, there wasn't much he could do, not even to ease the pain.

He headed back towards the battlefield, limping heavily and advancing at an excruciatingly slow pace. After only a few yards, he paused to contemplate the scene unfolding ahead of him. The battle looked as impressive from the distance as from within - maybe even more so. He could see dragons, swooping down on giants in bursts of flames. He could –

As if a sixth sense had alerted him of an immediate danger, Snape suddenly turned round, just in time to see Ursaglow cast a curse at him and to dodge it. A second later they were both eying each other, their wands aimed at one another.

"Leaving so soon, Professor Snape?" the young man asked ironically with a sly smile, emphasizing the title more than needed.

Snape couldn't help but sneer. "You know, I kind of hoped I would be given the opportunity to see you again."

"So you could tell me how much you missed me?" Ursaglow mocked.

"So I could give you what you deserve," Snape hissed between gritted teeth.

They remained still a few more seconds while they gauged one another. Ursaglow was uninjured, which either meant he hadn't taken any active part in the battle, or he was an incredibly good fighter. Snape saw the young man's smile widen gradually as he observed Snape's wounds, probably thinking it would make things even easier for him.

They both attacked at the same time. Ursaglow dodged his spell easily, while the wound at Snape's leg restricted his movements, and he avoided the young man's curse with somewhat difficulty. Ursaglow kept casting curses one after the other, never giving him any opportunity to counter-attack, forcing Snape to use shield charms and to take a few steps back.

Oh why the hell was _he_ playing fair whereas Ursaglow wasn't? Snape suddenly wondered.

When an unhoped-for opening arose, Snape didn't hesitate and cast Ursaglow a Dark Arts curse. The curse cut through the skin of Ursaglow's shoulder. Surprised, the young wizard remained taken aback long enough for Snape to cast another while he advanced towards Ursaglow. And another. And another, until they were back to the lake and Ursaglow had his feet in the water.

Ursaglow now had bleeding cuts through his cheek, shoulder and arms. "Is that all you can do?" he teased as he blocked Snape's next attack with a shield charm.

When Snape expected it the least, the young man lunged at him and managed to grab him. Ursaglow pulled him towards the lake, and in a swift twirling movement threw him to the ground in a loud splashing noise before thrusting Snape's head under the water and holding him under.

Snape's hands instinctively grabbed Ursaglow's wrist, unsuccessfully trying to push him away, and realised his mistake only when he began to choke on water: he had dropped his wand.

Ursaglow suddenly lifted Snape's head out of the water, but never loosened his tight grip on Snape's collar. Snape coughed and spat, desperately trying to catch his breath. Ursaglow was glaring at him, his eyes full of hatred.

Mustering all the strength he had left, Snape grabbed Ursaglow's shoulders and rolled on his side, dragging the young wizard with him until he had managed to reverse the situation. He held Ursaglow's head under the water with difficulty as he was already quite spent. But Ursaglow wasn't; he managed to sneak a leg up and kicked Snape's chest violently.

Snape fell back on the shore painfully, while Ursaglow emerged from the lake, standing up and looking angrier than ever. Snape recoiled backwards when Ursaglow advanced towards him, already aiming his wand at him. And Snape no longer had his to counter the young man's attack.

He was at his mercy. And Ursaglow didn't look like he wanted to spare him.

Ursaglow towered over him with a grin of satisfaction. The young man allowed himself a moment to gloat over his victory, his smile widening as he prepared to cast the final curse. Snape held Ursaglow's gaze. He wouldn't show him any sign of weakness. Not now, not ever.

While Snape prepared for the worse, Ursaglow's smile froze and turned into a puzzled expression. The young wizard looked down to his feet. "Oh Merlin," he muttered with a hint of panic in his voice.

Snape looked down too, and had a start when he saw a tentacle wrapped all around one of Ursaglow's legs and up to his thigh. He didn't have the time to do anything until the squid yanked violently. Ursaglow fell face first to the ground and let go a shriek of terror as he was pulled under the water.

Snape remained staring with disbelief at the eddies that indicated where Ursaglow had been standing only a second before. The giant squid. It must have been disturbed and aroused by the surrounding battle. Afraid the squid might want some more, Snape quickly snatched his wand - which was floating on the surface - before moving away from the lake, his eyes never leaving the water.

He decided to rest on the bank for a minute. From where he was, he could still hear the sounds of the battle from afar, which meant it was still going. Snape shivered with cold, but dismissed the sensation as a result of being wet. Until it became _uncannily_ cold.

Snape jumped to his feet and turned round to see a Dementor heading towards him. He braced himself and lifted his wand.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" he shouted. The bright light pushed the Dementor back, but it was returning to the attack.

Happy thought, Severus, happy thought… he tried to reason. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a second Dementor coming in his direction. Oh right, that was one hell of a happy thought…

Ursaglow. Ursaglow had paid for handing him to the Dark Lord.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" he shouted again, pushing the two Dementors away efficiently, but not for long. "_Expecto Patronum_!" he cast once more, without much result.

Two other Dementors were approaching. That made four of them, he noted, trying very hard not to panic - and barely succeeding. He was alone, isolated from the rest of the crowd. He was severely wounded and hardly had enough strength left to keep standing. There was no way he could fend off four Dementors on his own in this state.

A happy thought. Any happy thought. "_Expecto Patronum_!" he shouted unproductively, still racking his brain for a positive memory. But the closer the Dementors were getting, the harder it became for him to focus on something positive.

Against his will, his thoughts were brought back to his childhood. His parents arguing violently. The other students at Hogwarts making fun of him. Muggles tortured at his own hands. The Dark Mark burning his flesh for the first time. The look of terror on that child's face…

Snape fell on his knees. They were close. They were way too close…

"_Expecto Patronum_!" he tried desperately, but without any real conviction. "_Expecto Patronum_! _Expecto Patronum_!" he continued, but it was no use.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" another voice shouted, and a burst of bright light chased the Dementors.

It suddenly felt as if a weight had suddenly been pulled from Snape's soul. He looked up, and was surprised to find out who had just helped him.

"Lupin?" he exclaimed while the other man helped him up. "What are you doing down here?"

"I had a little, um, encounter with Peter," Lupin replied. Snape looked beyond the werewolf and found, in the distance, Pettigrew lying on the ground. Whether the other wizard was unconscious, stupefied or dead, he couldn't tell - and he honestly couldn't care less. "You?" Lupin asked in return.

"I had a little encounter with…" he hesitated - he didn't really wish to bring Ursaglow up, "with a row of fangs that were very eager to show me just how good my calf tasted."

"Lovely," Lupin said with a weak smile. "Look, we've got to get back to the others; the Dementors will be back soon. Can you walk?" Lupin asked with a gauging look at Snape's wounded leg. On his part, Lupin sported superficial wounds to the head and shoulder.

Snape briefly considered the question. "Not really, but I can still hop." Somehow the Dementors flight had made him somewhat euphoric and on a kind of joking mood.

Lupin looked at him with an amused expression, until his smile disappeared when his gaze veered above Snape's head. "By Merlin's beard…" he muttered with alarm.

Snape looked up as well, and his euphoria vanished instantly. The Dementors were back. And they had brought some friends with them. A dozen of dark silhouettes were now hovering over them. Who could have guessed Dementors were vindictive?

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" both he and Lupin shouted at the same time, brandishing their wands. His own spell had little to no effect, while Lupin's managed to slow the Dementors to some extent. But not to stop them.

Within seconds, they were back to back, circled by Dementors. Snape knew for a fact that he was way too spent to cast a strong enough Patronus - not to mention his inability to focus on a happy thought. And he also knew Lupin couldn't handle a dozen of Dementors on his own.

They were doomed.

A crazed smile stretched on Snape's lips. He wasn't going to die without giving them their galleons' worth. Behind him, Lupin tensed perceptibly when the Dementors drew nearer and nearer.

Come on, just a little bit closer, Snape mentally invited, clutching his wand almost eagerly. One didn't devote oneself to the study of the Dark Arts without learning a few fancy tricks along the way.

Snape was about to cast one of these tricks on the Dementors when they all abruptly stopped advancing. They remained still, as if hesitating.

"What's going on?" Snape asked warily.

"I have no idea…" Lupin replied, obviously at a total loss as well.

The Dementors seemed to stagger, looking as confused as faceless creatures could. They seemed suddenly and inexplicably disoriented. They began stumbling around, moving significantly away from Snape and Lupin, as if they had lost track of them. As if they had totally forgotten about their very existence, actually.

Drifting away slowly, they were soon all gone.

"What the _hell_ just happened?" Snape exclaimed.

The answer came in the form of a loud cheer of happiness coming from the castle's direction. A cheer emanating from dozens of exulting wizards and witches.

"The battle is over," Lupin chuckled with half disbelief. "We won."

* * *

Coming Next: _Denouement_


	37. Denouement

**A/N**: Hmm, I guess I should warn you even though they're "off screen": several character deaths mentioned in this chapter.  
Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 37  
DENOUEMENT**

Happiness. It was an outburst of sheer and overwhelming happiness resulting from the victory that had driven the Dementors away, Snape realised. Still doubtful, he rolled up his sleeve to check his Dark Mark: it was gone. He could still see it under his skin, like a watermark, but it was mostly gone.

The Dark Lord had been defeated.

"Need some help to walk back to the castle?" Lupin offered.

Snape glared at the offending extended hand, contemplated the distance separating them from the school grounds, observed his right leg torn to shreds, glared at Lupin's hand again. Oh, what the hell.

Still reluctant, Snape accepted the help at last without a word. He put an arm on Lupin's shoulders, so that he could transfer some of his weight on him. They walked back towards Hogwarts, discovering as they went the full horror of what had just happened.

The number of casualties was alarming. The initial happiness had now been replaced by concern, fear and grief. Many wizards and witches were looking around frantically, some of them calling names. Some others were assembled around a dead body, overwhelmed with grief or denial. Snape suddenly felt Lupin tense perceptibly.

"I, um, I'll be back in a minute," Lupin said hurriedly before pacing away.

Snape observed him head towards a standing witch in the distance, who he finally identified as Wilson. She was one of those looking around frantically, and seemed relieved when she saw Lupin walking in her direction.

Not really wanting to watch their happily fluffy reunion - even though he was somehow relatively glad to discover Wilson was still alive - Snape ignored them and continued his way up to the castle. The school grounds were a spectacle of desolation. He tried not to examine any of the dead bodies too closely - it was likely he knew some of them. But one in particular caught his attention and he froze instantly.

Draco Malfoy.

He slowly moved towards the young man's lifeless body, feeling more and more sickened at every step. Draco was spread out on the ground with an expression of fear and pain engraved on his face. The left side of his body and face were entirely burnt. His skin was torn where large and sharp claws had attacked.

Draco Malfoy, killed by a dragon. How very ironic, Snape thought with an increasing appalled feeling, bile rising in his throat at the examination of the young man's broken body.

As if hypnotised by this sight, Snape had to force himself to look up and to keep walking. Further along the way, he had to stop again to let by a convoy of Aurors guiding the Death Eaters they had arrested, among which Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange strode. As they all walked past him, Malfoy silently glared at Snape with contempt in his eyes. Snape returned the glare.

"Can I have a second with him?"

Snape jumped at the voice. He turned and found out it was Wilson. She and Lupin had caught up with him, and she was asking an Auror for a moment with Malfoy. Snape noted the way her left arm fell limply to her side - very likely broken.

The Auror seemed hesitant, but obviously didn't know why she was making such a request, as Snape did - and probably as Lupin did too, if his worried expression was any indication. The Auror eventually agreed. "But only for a second," he warned.

When Wilson faced Malfoy at last, the hatred she had for the wizard was very palpable. Malfoy stared back at her with cockiness and defiance. Snape could see Wilson boiling, her anger and rage increasing slowly in her eyes. She was clutching her wand very tightly, and breathing heavily.

When she lifted her wand and made a movement towards Malfoy, Lupin caught her by the shoulders.

"Endora," he said soothingly. "Don't do anything you might regret later."

Wilson turned to her brother with a reproachful look. "I don't think there's anything I could do to him that I would regret later. Come on, Remus, he's - "

"I know. But you might want to entrust this to my care for a moment," Lupin concluded as he reached for Wilson's wand. The witch maintained her grip.

"You would do the exact same," she countered heatedly. "You told me that when Peter -"

"But in retrospect, I know now it was wrong," Lupin interrupted. "Come on. Don't," he finished quietly, almost pleadingly.

Wilson finally let go of her wand with obvious reluctance.

"Oh, isn't it touching…" Malfoy mocked. "Now if you two are finished, maybe - "

He never had the chance to finish his sentence. At the sound of his voice, Wilson suddenly turned and marched towards him, before punching him hard square in the jaw.

"I hope you rot in Azkaban until the end of your despicable life," Wilson hissed angrily. "I also hope you spend these years grieving for your loss, just the way I have because of you. But I doubt you have enough heart to experience any kind of emotion."

Malfoy remained impassive, but Snape noticed the slightest frown appear at Wilson's last sentence. Malfoy didn't know. He didn't know about Draco. As the Auror led Malfoy away, the Death Eater smirked.

"No prison will hold me very long," Malfoy boasted. "I'm more powerful than you think; I'll be out in no time!"

Snape watched Malfoy being led away, experiencing a sudden outburst of contempt for this man - it was likely Malfoy was right. Once the group was out of earshot, Snape saw Wilson shake her hand from the corner of his eyes.

"Damn it hurt!" she exclaimed painfully.

Snape couldn't help but smile as he realised she had fought to maintain her composure in front of Malfoy. In the distance, he saw Malfoy's smirk vanish as the wizard caught sight of Draco, his head turning to remain focused on his son's dead body.

Yes Lucius, your son, Snape thought with a hint of resentment.

"By Merlin's beard!" he heard Wilson cry out suddenly as she left hurriedly, soon followed by her brother.

Snape watched them kneel next to dead bodies, somewhat uncaring until he recognised one of his colleagues. Vector.

"Severus?" Snape was snapped out of his morbid contemplation by Dumbledore. "Are you all right?" the Headmaster continued with a hint of concern in his voice.

"More than some," Snape replied somewhat bitterly.

"I would like to see you and Minerva in my office in an hour. Can you make it there by then?" the old wizard asked. Snape only nodded. "Good. I will see you there then."

After Dumbledore left, Snape continued heading back towards the castle, this time a bit more attentive to the casualties around him. Humans, centaurs, giants, all sorts of creatures lay strewn about the school grounds. The surviving magical beasts were retreating, mostly towards the Forbidden Forest. The Dementors were nowhere to be seen.

The deceased wizards were predominantly adults, but some were students. As he walked through the battlefield, Snape recognised some of them, like Seamus Finnigan. Closer to the castle, he spotted a group of redheads gathered around another lifeless body. He walked past them, and recognised the Weasley's second son - Charlie. He caught sight of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger standing there, but no sign of Potter anywhere.

During the next half hour, once his leg was healed by Madam Pomfrey, Snape helped some of the more seriously wounded. Not by healing them or entertaining them with his witty yet underappreciated sense of humour, but someone had to strap arms, splint legs, and remind anyone still breathing they really had nothing to complain about.

Once it was time, Snape left for the Headmaster's office. As he entered the antechamber, he immediately spotted Potter, sitting in an armchair in a corner.

The boy's face was down, his elbows on his lap and his head between his hands. Potter didn't look up or acknowledge Snape's presence in any way. To be honest, he wasn't even sure Potter was even aware of his presence. There was some kind of a desperate look to the boy that made Snape stare at him for a few seconds.

He eventually proceeded into the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore and McGonagall were already there.

"Ah, Severus, here you are," Dumbledore greeted him. "Have a seat, will you?" he then invited.

Snape settled in an armchair in front of the Headmaster's desk, next to McGonagall.

"Voldemort is gone for ever," Dumbledore announced, "though I'm sure both of you already figured that out. And Severus, I'm sure you already had the opportunity to witness some of the immediate effects."

Snape nodded and rolled up his sleeve for them to see his now almost invisible Dark Mark.

"Hmm…" Dumbledore thought aloud. "I'm afraid the outline will always be somewhat visible…"

"So, what happened exactly?" Snape asked.

"Harry Potter defeated him," Dumbledore replied. "I don't know all the details yet. Harry is still very shaken by what happened, and he's still not very comfortable with talking about it. The news has already begun to spread throughout the Wizarding world. I'm expecting a representative from the Ministry any minute now, probably the Minister himself."

"Is that why Harry is waiting in your antechamber?" McGonagall asked. "After what happened, I would have expected him to spend some time with his friends to celebrate Voldemort's defeat. But he seems… very anguished."

Dumbledore's face seemed to darken suddenly. "I'm sure you both remember the Experimental Charms Voldemort stole from the Ministry." Both Snape and McGonagall nodded. "If my reports are correct, Voldemort managed to cast one on Harry just before he was defeated. One that seems to have deprived Harry from his magic."

Snape exchanged a surprised look with McGonagall. "You mean, Potter is now… magic-less? Like… a squib?" Snape queried.

"Pretty much," Dumbledore confirmed sadly. "Needless to say, Harry was pretty devastated when he discovered that. He doesn't seem to be able to get over this news, quite understandably I might add. He feels like he just lost one of the most important things in his life, which is why I asked him to come here. I think all hope is not lost, and that he might be able to recover his powers much sooner than he expects."

"How so?" McGonagall interrogated. "This is an Experimental Charm, no counter-curse exists for it."

"I have been in touch with some people from the Ministry," Dumbledore began to explain. "They agreed that with a large, multi-disciplined team of competent searchers, they should be able to find a counter-curse in a few months time, a year at most. They are already working on establishing this team as we speak, and I have no doubt that any witch or wizard they contact will readily agree to help Harry after what he accomplished."

McGonagall nodded her agreement.

"I will now tell Harry about it," Dumbledore continued. "I hope it will help cheer him up. I entrust you two with the task of handling the situation outside, while I deal with Harry and the Ministry's representative. Thanks to both of you for coming here. This was a long day, and there's still much to do…"

They both left the Headmaster's office. McGonagall informed Potter that Dumbledore was expecting him, and then caught up with Snape as he headed back towards the entrance doors. They walked next to each other in companionable silence, until they both paused on the stairs just outside the castle.

"I'm glad all this is over at last," McGonagall said, and Snape nodded. "I'm sure you are relieved too. No more spying. No more double identities. No more Death Eaters meetings. No more serving a megalomaniac overlord. No more Occlumency lessons…" McGonagall added with a playful smile.

Snape smiled back. "To be honest, I'm not sure which I will miss the most: the evil overlord or the Occlumency lessons. I held both very dearly in my heart," Snape confessed on a very serious tone.

McGonagall's smile widened to a broad grin. "Come on, we still have a lot of work," she said while walking down the stairs.

Snape contemplated the battlefield a few more seconds before following her. The Wizarding world would carry the marks of this war for a very long time, just like he would sport the remnants of his Dark Mark on his forearm for the rest of his life. But all these wounds would heal - eventually.

* * *

Stay tuned tomorrow for the _Epilogue _(chapter length)_  
_


	38. Epilogue

**A/N**: Chapter beta read by **Forty-Two Dreams**. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**CHAPTER 38  
EPILOGUE**

_Dear Professor Snape,_

Oh, he couldn't wait to read the rest of the letter already, Snape thought sarcastically. He checked the seal: yes, it was definitely from the Ministry.

_As you might already know, a team of wizards is being arranged here, at the Ministry of Magic, in the hope to find a cure to the curse that is presently ailing young wizard Harry Potter. We expect to bring talented wizards from various backgrounds together in that prospect._

Snape sighed loudly. So far, nothing he couldn't have read in the Daily Prophet.

_Your brilliant work on the cure to the Dormant Poison as a Potions Master has come to our attention, and it would be an honour for us to count you among our team._

Sure. Working for the Ministry, and to help Potter, no less… Now that the Dark Lord was gone, they were all living in a wonderland, weren't they?

Snape read quickly the part where it was explained that the almost unremunerated nature of the job would be greatly compensated by the satisfaction of being helpful to the wonderboy who sacrificed himself to save the entire Wizarding world - he was caricaturing, but that was the general idea.

He almost skipped the part where the author was desperately trying to make him think he was such a brilliant wizard that they would probably fail miserably if he didn't join them - again, he was caricaturing, but it amused him to no end to see a member of the Ministry suck up to a former Death Eater in such a fashion.

He read carefully the part with an attempt at bribery - an attempt that failed completely since he was not interested by a permanent job at the Ministry - before skipping the usual closing to the letter.

Snape took a very sadistic pleasure in tearing the letter apart, before putting it on fire with the tip of his wand. Then, he watched it burn slowly, enjoying himself tremendously - it wasn't every day he was given the opportunity to send the Ministry packing. And he wasn't going to start playing nice all of a sudden just because the Dark Lord was now gone.

The Dark Lord was now gone, true enough, but all evidence of his existence hadn't disappeared, he thought bitterly while instinctively rubbing his forearm - it would take a while before he could get rid of this habit. The initial joy of sporting an almost vanished Dark Mark had given way to sullenness when he fully realised that it would never be totally gone, and that he would always be reminded of his past. No matter what he did, he would always remain a Death Eater in the eyes of others - as much as in his eyes.

Snape rested back in his armchair. He could continue his work on his everlasting project, but he knew it was bound to fail, just like it had during all these years. He also knew he had blown his one chance to ever find a cure… Maybe he could go talk to Wilson, but somehow he doubted that after what had happened and what she had seen, she would agree - not to mention he had told her himself that their work association was definitely over. But he clung to the hope of being able to talk her into it again some time during the next school year - there would sure be opportunities and lots of time to try and convince her.

Instead of wallowing in his own misery, Snape decided he had much better things to do, like gloat over the two full months he was going to have all to himself, or go instil some last-minute fear in the students before they left for home. Snape eventually settled on going outside for some fresh air, hoping to cross the path of some students as much as wanting, for once, to get away from the somewhat oppressing atmosphere of his Potions lab.

Snape went on his way relatively merrily - the recollection of burning the letter from the Ministry would probably entertain him the whole afternoon. However, as he headed for the front door, his joyful disposition vanished all of a sudden.

In the entrance hall, Wilson and Lupin were conversing cheerily, surrounded by a bunch of bags and luggage they were levitating towards the door. Snape recognised some of Wilson's belongings. She was leaving, he realised.

Snape had frozen right on spot, and it took the two others a while to notice his presence as he kept observing them. When Wilson turned and saw him at last, she fell silent and her smile vanished slowly. She stared at him for a moment, her eyes unreadable - contempt? Hatred? Revulsion? - while Snape stared back, somewhat aware of Lupin looking alternately at the two of them with uneasiness.

When Snape decided to keep walking towards them, he saw Wilson suddenly turn to her brother. "I'll go pack the rest of my stuff," she told Lupin before leaving the entrance hall hurriedly. Snape ended standing next to Lupin, still staring at the hallway through which Wilson had left, while Lupin maintained an embarrassed silence.

"The Ministry contacted her," Lupin eventually said, still sounding quite embarrassed by the whole situation. "She's going to work on that cure for Harry."

Of course they would have contacted her, Snape realised, since they had contacted him and mentioned the cure to the Dormant Poison… So she was leaving, and for good apparently… And she was also avoiding him… Well, maybe he wouldn't have the chance to talk to her about working together again, after all, he thought with a slight pang while his hand unconsciously reached for his forearm.

Lupin seemed to catch the sudden movement, and he cast Snape an interrogating look. Snape immediately released his forearm and glared at the other wizard. Lupin seemed hesitant for a second, but eventually looked away.

"You know," Lupin began out of the blue, still looking in the distance. "When Endora was eight, when she was old enough to truly understand what a werewolf was, what it meant to be one and what the consequences were for me, she told me very seriously that one day she'd find a cure. And now, she's over thirty, and I know she's still working on it," Lupin finished.

"What a heart-wrenching story," Snape commented mockingly.

"What I meant," Lupin continued nonetheless, "is that she's not the kind to give up on a project from one day to the next."

"Your point being?" Snape asked, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

"My point being…" Lupin suddenly sighed and turned to him at last. "Look, I don't know what happened between the two of you, and to be honest I'd rather not know. But a couple of months ago she mentioned you two had agreed to work together on your respective projects, and - "

"And we later agreed it would be a bad idea," Snape interrupted.

"She had seemed rather enthusiastic about it, though," Lupin commented. "And I don't see why she'd suddenly change her mind."

"Unless something you don't want to know about happened," Snape retorted, not wanting to delve into the details.

"Maybe," Lupin nodded. "But whatever happened, I'm sure that if you ever want to work with her on that project of yours again, all you have to do is ask her nicely." Snape arched an eyebrow. "She probably won't accept at first, seeing how she seems to be ignoring you, but given some time I'm sure she'd - "

"Why are you telling me this?" Snape interrupted.

"Because I know you are both very good in your respective fields," Lupin replied. "The Wolfsbane potions you prepared for me four years ago were the most effective I ever got."

"Praising my skills will get you nowhere, Lupin," Snape pointed out, "especially since Dumbledore already asked me to prepare your Wolfsbane potions next year," he continued on a bitter tone, and Lupin smiled. "Besides, I gather all you want is for us to find a cure to the werewolf condition."

"What can I say. I'm such a selfish man," Lupin replied with a shrug. "Look. The two of you managed to find a cure to an allegedly incurable poison. I'm convinced you'd be able to find maybe not a cure, but at least some kind of monthly medication that could prevent the transformation," Lupin assured. "And you'll certainly have no trouble finding what you've been personally looking for for years," he continued with a nod towards Snape's forearm.

Snape remained silent. He knew Lupin was right.

"I can speak to her about it, if you want," Lupin added.

Snape looked at him questioningly when something suddenly hit him. "When exactly did we become civil with each other?"

Lupin just shrugged. "Since we're going to have to see each other all year long again…" He left the sentence hanging.

"Having to see each other doesn't mean we have to put up with one another," Snape remarked.

"But it doesn't mean we can't try either," Lupin retorted.

Snape pondered over it for a second. He had to admit it would be nice to have a male colleague his own age around for a change. Someone he may be able to relate to given some time. Someone who could even become a friend given some more time - much more time.

"Well, I guess we _could_ try," Snape eventually commented. "But I don't think so," he concluded with a sneer as he left like a prince. Let's not push it. Not to mention he was looking forward to picking on Lupin all year long way too much…

**THE END**

* * *

(this Author's Note hasn't been beta read, and English isn't my mother language, so my apologies if there's any mistake) 

A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to review, it means a lot to me. I hope this story helped you bear the long wait until book 6.

I'd like to give you some background on some of the names I used in this story:  
_Endora_: This is obviously a reference to the show _Bewitched_. There were reruns on TV when I began writing this story and had to decide on a name, and I thought it could be fun.  
_Mizar Ursaglow_: Mizar is the name of a star in the Plough, hence the last name...  
_Angerona_ (Lupin's mom): The protecting deity of ancient Rome and a goddess of secrecy.  
I think that's all... If I forgot a name, please let me know.

Now some background on the story itself:  
- The bet mentioned in Chapter 8 is about whether Snape is a vampire. I had initially planned to mention it later in the story, but I never had the chance to. There are a lot of details I put in the story but didn't have the opportunity to develop, so if you'd like to know more about something, just ask.  
- I have a couple of "cut scenes" that I wrote but cut from the story, usually because they didn't fit. I had initially planned to display them at the end in some kind of a bonus chapter, but I read them recently and, well, I cut them for a reason: they're bad. So I'm afraid you won't get to read them.  
- I had planned 2 or 3 additionnal flashback scenes for the "Back in Time" chapters, scenes that gave more background on the relationships between the Lupins (including one that explained why they were called in to the Headmaster's office, if you remember what I'm talking about). But I already had to split the chapter in two, so I had to make a choice between the scenes. In the end, I didn't even write the scenes I "cut". But if I had, I would have published a bonus chapter with them.

One last thing before you can return to your usual activities. I know many of you were disappointed that there was so little Lupin in this story. The problem is, this story is written entirely from Snape's PoV, so I couldn't just include Lupin when there was no valid reason for him to be around Snape. But Lupin was extremely important to the general plot, and he's been doing a lot in the background. Believe me, this was very frustrating for me too since most of the time I knew exactly what was going through the other characters' heads, especially Lupin's.

Which is why at some point, I began considering to write a companion fic to this story, this time written from Lupin's PoV (I also considered writing a sequel BTW). But I don't think I'll ever get to write it. I recently started writing an original fiction with a friend of mine and it's taking a lot of my free time. I might consider to change my mind if a lot of people ask me to write it, but it will really have to be a **lot** of people... So if any of you want me to write this story, you know what you have to do... (author innocently indicates the pretty review button...) And if you read this story, enjoyed it but never took the time to review, now's your chance...

In the meantime, goodbye for now, and enjoy book 6.


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